


I've Built My Dreams Around You

by romanticalgirl



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Biracial Character, Christmas, In-Laws, Kid Fic, M/M, Meet-Cute, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28322376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: Christmas can be a rough time for Bucky - he's a single dad, his wife died near Christmas, and the mall is his least favorite place (except maybe his in-laws' house). But then he and his daughter meet and are charmed by both Steve Rogers and the mall Santa.Bucky wasn't sure he'd ever be ready for a relationship again, but something about Steve makes him take a chance. It might be the magic of Christmas. Or maybe Bucky's on the nice list and he got what he really wanted.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Other (past), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 20
Kudos: 161





	I've Built My Dreams Around You

**Author's Note:**

> There is a scene where Bucky's wife's death in a mall shooting is described briefly. Take care of yourself.

Bucky hates the mall.

Everything is too noisy, too overpriced, and it’s too crowded.

Of course, he can’t really say any of that when his daughter, Katrina, looks at him with her big, wide eyes – the same greenish-brown as her mother’s – and asks to go to the mall to see Santa.

Since Evelyn died two years ago, it’s been nearly impossible for Bucky to deny her anything.

“Okay, pumpkin. Let’s find your prettiest dress. We can get your picture with Santa, and you can tell him what you want.”

She grins widely and turns, heading to her room. She’s at the base of the stairs when she stops and looks back at him. “Should we do my hair?”

“I thought you liked it like that.”

She reaches up and touches her afro. “People say it’s not pretty.”

Bucky grits his teeth. He knew this was likely to happen, but he’d hoped she’d at least get through pre-school before it did. He walks over to Kat and squats down in front of her. He rests his hands on her shoulders. “Do you feel pretty when you wear your hair like this?”

She shrugs, refusing to meet his eyes. “Doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Sweetheart, what you think is the only thing that _does_ matter. I mean, you’re not going to believe me, right? Because you’d say I was just telling you that you’re beautiful because it’s my job, rather than believing me, since I’m your dad,” he elongates the A and she giggles. “But you are. And your mom… Well, she’s the most beautiful woman that I’ve ever met, and she had hair just like yours.”

“Momma was pretty.”

He’s not sure how much she remembers of her mom actually, but there are pictures around the house, and Bucky’s told her everything he can about her. “She was.” He puts two fingers under her chin and tips her head up so she’s looking him in the eye. “I’ll do your hair different if you want, but only if _you_ want it. Not because Mindy or Mandy or Ashley or Bettina or Belinda or any of those other girls in your class think you should.”

Kat bites her lower lip then nods. “Can I wear my sparkly barrettes?”

“Yeah. I think they’d look really nice.”

She smiles and dashes up the stairs. While that went infinitely better than the ‘did my mommy die because she didn’t love me’ conversation, having these talks – having to have these talks – because of what she hears from school or from what people assume and think it’s okay to say to them – makes him want to scream.

If Evelyn’s parents didn’t insist on being in charge of her schooling as a condition of them not pursuing custody of Kat from Bucky, he’d take her out of private school and put her in a public one. He’d like her to have friends of color. Friends who look like her, rather than her being whispered about by the rich, white people who go to the private school who, as far as Bucky can tell, think the south won the civil war.

“Daddy! Do my barrettes!” She runs down the stairs and nearly plows into Bucky. He raises an eyebrow as he catches her, and she opens her eyes wide and innocent.

“Excuse me, miss? I _know_ you know better than to run down the stairs.”

“Sorry, Daddy. I’m just really excited. We’re gonna see Santa!”

“Get your shoes on or we won’t be going anywhere.”

Kat chatters in the back seat all the way to the mall, talking about all the things she’s going to ask Santa for. Bucky tries to keep a running list in his head, but the things she likes are mercurial and fleeting. Besides, Evelyn’s parents will buy her most of what she wants, and make Bucky look cheap by comparison.

“Most of all I want a puppy.”

“Kat.”

“You said no _pony_ , Daddy. A puppy is not a pony.”

“Neither of us are home enough to train a puppy. You remember what potty training was like, don’t you? Do you want us to have to go through that again?”

“The doggy wouldn’t sit on the toilet. Silly daddy.”

Bucky laughs. “True. We’ll think about it, okay?”

“I’m gonna tell Santa. Maybe if we can’t, Grandma Felicia will.”

Fuck. Bucky’s going to have to get a dog. 

**

“Do you want me to go in with you?”

“Daddy, I’m a big girl.”

“I know you are, but you’re wearing your pretty dress, so I just wanted to make sure.”

“I’m a big girl, even in my pretty dress. I’m not like some princess that needs rescuing.” She tosses her head and goes into the family bathroom. Something tightens in Bucky’s chest, because it was like seeing the ghost of Evelyn. He closes his eyes tight and leans against the wall.

He’s not sure how long he stands like that, but he starts when someone touches his shoulder. He snaps to attention then relaxes when he sees the guy standing in front of him. Bucky’s always heard the term ‘built like a brick shithouse’ applied to women, but this guy is definitely the male equivalent. He’s tall and broad and ridiculously gorgeous, with bright blue eyes that seem to be fucking twinkling, and a lush, trimmed beard.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah.” Bucky pulls away from the guy’s touch, shrugging his shoulder. The guy gets the clue immediately and backs off. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“You sure? You looked…”

“I’m fine.”

“Okay. Well. I’m glad.” He smiles at Bucky and, Jesus Christ on a pogo stick, this is definitely unfair. Bucky’s had sex once since Evelyn died when he was drunk enough, and he’s intimately familiar with his right hand, but this is the first time Bucky’s felt his stomach swoop in two and a half years. The guy shifts his arm, and Bucky notices that he’s got the hanger of a garment bag hooked over his shoulder. “Is - “

Bucky glances over his shoulder at the door to the family restroom. “Oh, yeah. My daughter. She’s sure that she can handle it on her own, but I might have to go in, so she doesn’t lock the door. 

“How old is she?”

“Four.”

Kat’s voice is loud through the door. “Four _and a half_.”

“Excuse me,” Bucky says as seriously as he can. “Four-and-a-half. Did you, uh - “

“I can wait. Just have to change into my suit before work.”

The water turns on in the bathroom. After a second, Bucky knocks on the door. “Don’t just let the water run, Kat. Wash your hands.”

“I _am_ , Daddy.”

“You sure she’s not a teenager?”

Bucky laughs then leans in. The guy smells like pine and fire smoke, a cabin in the woods. His stomach swoops again and he swallows hard, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Four-and-a-half going on sixteen.”

“I hear that’s pretty common.”

The door opens and Bucky leans back, turning to smile down at Kat. She looks from Bucky to the guy. All the swooping stops and Bucky braces himself. Most people don’t say anything about him having a daughter of color, but enough do that he instinctively expects it.

Instead the guy squats down, looks Kat in the eye, and raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not five? Because you look very grown up.”

“It’s because I’m in my pretty dress.” She looks up at Bucky suddenly, as if realizing she’s talking to a random guy. Bucky smiles at her and nods. He really can’t fault her for talking to him when he’d been doing the same. She turns back to face the guy and sticks out her hand. “Katrina Barnes.”

And, as usual, she takes it a step too far.

The guy grabs her hand and shakes it. Bucky can tell it’s firm, but not too hard. Perfect for someone of Kat’s size. “Steven Rogers.”

“That’s my daddy. His name is Daddy.”

Bucky snorts, turning it into a cough. “James.”

Steve stands up and holds his hand out for Bucky. “Nice to meet the Barnes family.” 

Bucky has his jacket on, so he’s thankful Steve reaches out with his right hand so Bucky can do the same. “Nice to meet Mr. Rogers.”

Steve smiles and shakes his head. “Please don’t.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He releases Bucky’s hand and nods toward the bathroom. “I really have to change. Can’t be late.”

“Right. Of course. Well, we have a date with Santa, so we’d better get going too. We’re hoping that, since he’s on a break, the line might have gone down.”

“This time of year, I don’t think the line ever goes down.” He moves past Kat and opens the door. “Everyone’s got a Christmas wish.”

“Yeah. I guess they do.”

**

Bucky’s just about to knock on the bathroom door when it opens, and he finds himself looking Santa Claus in the eye. In the bright blue, twinkling eye. Holy shit.

“Holy shit.”

“Bad word, Daddy!” Kat comes around the corner where she was waiting and goes wide-eyed. “ _Santa!_ Daddy! It’s Santa!”

“I know. It’s… Hi, Santa.”

“Hello there, James.” His voice is deeper, and Bucky’s stomach has bypassed swooping for straight up roller coasters. “And Miss. Kat.”

“Daddy! Santa knows my name!” Kat hasn’t quite managed whispering.

“Well, of course I do. I know everyone on my lists.”

“Am I naughty? I wasn’t naughty! I mean, except that one time. And then today when I ran down the stairs. I didn’t mean to be! I was just really excited to see you.”

“Well, as far as I remember since I last looked, you were on the nice list. What do you think, Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky manages not to say ‘I think I want to bang Santa Claus’, though he comes closer to it than he ever wants to admit. “She did apologize for the stairs.”

“Well, I would imagine an apology goes a long way to staying on the nice list. As long as you meant it.”

“I did! I promise!”

“Kat.” Bucky clears his throat, and he still hasn’t managed to look away from Santa. Steve. Fuck. “We should let Santa get back to the kids who are waiting for him. And go get in line.” He takes her hand and starts to walk away, probably a little too quickly, when Steve clears his throat.

“Were you looking for this?” Steve holds up Kat’s jacket. “Mr. Rogers found it and asked if I could return it to the nice girl he just met. I believe he said her name was Kat.”

“Daddy! Santa has my jacket!” She grabs it and puts it on. “Thank you, Santa. And thank Mr. Rogers when you see him, when you deliver him his presents. He was really nice. And he found my jacket!”

“Kat, he went into the bathroom after you. I’m sure that’s how he found your jacket.”

“But he didn’t take it to the lost and found, Daddy. He gave it to _Santa_. That means he thought Santa was going to bring me presents!” She grabs Bucky’s leg and hugs it tight. He manages to stay on his feet, though it’s dicey for a moment until Steve reaches out to steady him. “I love you, Santa!”

She disengages from Bucky’s leg and grabs hold of Steve’s. He’s really going to have to break her of that habit before she gets taller. 

“You’re welcome, Kat. And I love you too.” He shakes Bucky’s hand again and winks at him, touching his white-gloved finger to the side of his nose, like he’s in “Twas the Night Before Christmas’ instead out outside the bathroom at a suburban mall. “Be good for your daddy.”

Kat pulls away and Steve walks off. His garment bag is hung over his shoulder again, and he heads toward the heart of the mall. Kat grabs Bucky’s hand as soon as Steve’s gone and tries to pull him along. “Daddy! I didn’t tell him what I wanted! Let’s go get in line.”

**

Bucky stands off to the side, trying not to wince as Kat keeps going on and on about what she wants for Christmas. Normally she’s not materialistic, at least not as much as she could be, but Christmas seems to be the exception. 

“But most of all, I want a puppy, because I know that Daddy can’t have a new arm and Mommy can’t come back.”

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut tight, because, holy shit, kid. Lay it all out bare bones. 

“Well, Kat. I can’t bring a puppy in the sleigh. They’d get too cold, but I’ll pass a note along. Just remember, a puppy takes lots of work and responsibility. Love isn’t enough. Talk to your Daddy about it and see if a puppy works in your life right now.”

Steve glances over at him, and Bucky mouths a ‘thank you’. Steve winks again, and Bucky really, really wishes he’d stop doing that.

“All right. Are you ready to have our picture taken?”

“But I want Daddy in it!”

Bucky shakes his head. “No, pumpkin.” 

She sticks her lower lip out in a pout, and she is _too_ much like Evelyn sometimes. 

“Okay, okay.” Bucky walks over as Steve shifts Kat to one leg and pats the other for Bucky. Bucky gives him a look, ignores him. “Give her the other leg.”

Steve does as he’s told and Bucky stands beside the chair, his arm resting on Kat’s shoulder. Steve puts his arm loosely around Kat, the side of his arm warm against Bucky’s thigh. Bucky doesn’t shiver, but his breath shakes a little as he exhales. The photographer tells them to smile, and Bucky looks down at Kat and can’t help but smile at the sight of her. 

“Say ‘candy’,” the photographer says, and Kat does obediently, holding the last syllable until the flash goes off. Steve slips his hand back as Bucky helps Kat down off his lap. He feels Steve’s fingers brush the denim of his jeans, and he’s almost certain he put something in his pocket. This time Bucky does shiver a little, anticipation dancing beneath his skin.

“Merry Christmas,” Steve calls out to them in his deep voice. “Ho, ho ho!”

**

Bucky absolutely, positively, definitely does not call the number Steve slipped into his pocket. He knows nothing about Steve other than the fact that he dresses up like Santa, which could mean he’s a weird creep, and that he was extra nice to Kat both in and out of costume, which could mean he isn’t. 

“Fuck.” He slumps back on his bed and eyes the open bedroom door, listening to the silence that means Kat’s asleep for a long minute. He calls just like he knew he was going to.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Is this Santa?”

The laugh he gets in return is low and warm, and absolutely nothing like the ‘ho ho ho’ Bucky’d last heard. “It’s not a hot line in the North Pole, you know. “Ice line. We had a hot line before, but it kept melting down part of the workshop.”

“You have a lot of North Pole jokes, huh?” After a second, he realizes exactly what that might have sounded like and is about to apologize when Steve starts laughing.

“Oh, yeah. I got a million of ‘em. My friends sort of collect them. ‘I once went on a trip to the North Pole. It all went south from there’. Or ‘why do polar bears only live at the North Pole? Because if they lived at the South Pole, they’d be bipolar bears’. I could go on and on.”

“Please don’t.” Bucky

“Are you sure? There are a few dirty ones. There’s one about a guy on the bridge who’s going to commit suicide - “

“I’m going to stop believing in Christmas if you keep going.”

“Okay, okay. Wouldn’t want that.” He’s quiet for a minute, and Bucky just listens to him breathe. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“So I should probably start this by asking if you’re going to get me fired.”

“What?”

“Well, generally when a guy brings his kid in to see Santa, he’s not going to be thrilled about said Santa giving him his number. So if this is you… I don’t know, would it be cheating? Cheating on your wife, then I’m going to hang up now.”

“If you thought I was married, why’d you give me your number?”

“Because I think you’re gorgeous, and you didn’t seem… Adverse, I guess. I mean, I thought we were flirting, but I am notoriously bad about recognizing flirting unless it bites me in the ass, and, let’s be honest, if it takes me that long to realize a guy’s flirting with me, I’m kind of an idiot.”

Bucky laughs. “You are… Wow. Nothing like Mr. Rogers, I have to say.”

“I have an extensive cardigan collection, I’ll have you know.”

“That is good to know. And, no. I’m not married. My wife died a few years ago.”

“Oh, shit.” Bucky can hear the sound of Steve slapping himself, most likely on the forehead.”I’m sorry.”

“There was no way for you to know.”

“So you’re not going to get me fired?”

“What kind of asshole would I be if I got Santa Claus fired?”

“Well,” Steve hums. “Homophobic?”

“Pretty sure Santa shouldn’t be such a smart ass.”

“If it helps, I started out as an elf.”

“Very funny.”

“No, seriously. Hold on. I’ll send you a picture.”

His phone pings, so Bucky swipes through his text and opens Steve’s, staring at it for a few minutes before he says anything. “That looks nothing like you, but everything like you.”

“I was a little smaller when I was a kid.”

“A little?” 

“Okay, a lot.”

“It’s like you added another one and a half of you.”

“Not quite.Anyway, I started out as an elf. Then I became a bigger elf. And then I got facial hair that I refused to shave off, so I got a molded jacket with a belly and a while beard to wear over the real one.”

“Why? I mean, why do you keep doing it?” 

“When I was a kid, things were rough sometimes, so my mom used to play Mrs. Claus, and the only way she could keep me out of trouble was to make me stay by her side. After a while it was tradition. And then after she died, it seemed like a small and silly way to honor her memory and a memory of us together.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Like you said to me, you didn’t know.”

“I don’t talk to my parents much. My dad… Well, I don’t know which pissed him off more, that I was bisexual or that I married a black woman. Or if they just took turns at being which was worse.”

“Ouch.”

“The best part was that the problem he had with me being bisexual was that I wasn’t man enough to just commit.” Bucky laughs because sometimes it’s funny and sometimes he feels like the tears will swallow him if he doesn’t. 

“What about your mom?”

“I’m her son, she loves me, but she doesn’t approve of my choices.”

“Do they see Kat?”

“My mom has and my sister. I don’t want to hear what my father might say to her. Though, to be honest, it would be kind of amusing to watch my dad realize that Evelyn’s parents are wealthier than he’ll ever be.”

“How did she die? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“You remember that mall shooting a few years ago?”

“Holy shit.”

“I was in the Army. Just came home from my last tour and we were out shopping. It was Christmas. Kat was at her grandparents’ house so we could shop for her gift. Guy opened fire, and we were nearby. He hit this pregnant woman. Evelyn was a medic in the Army before she got out, when we decided to have Kat. So when we saw the woman go down, we were both on the move. You remember your combat t4raining, no matter how long you’ve been out. Evelyn went to the woman. I kept trying to get people to stay down.”

“The pregnant woman. She survived.”

“She did. But when the security guards and cops grabbed the guy, he shot wild. Got Ev right through the throat.”

“Jesus.”

“I ran to her. The guy broke away from the cops and started running. We were sort of on a collision course, so he shot at me. Hit me in the left shoulder, so I can’t use it. She died saving someone else’s life, and I’m so proud of her, but god, I’m so pissed at her too. I didn’t know how to raise a kid, much less by myself. And it’s exceptionally hard to grieve and feel sorry for yourself and take care of a two-and-a-half year old.”

“And you couldn’t go to your parents for support. What about hers?”

“They were happy to support us by raising Kat for me. There were a few heated discussions. And lawyers. There were a lot of lawyers.” Bucky laughs roughly. “Jesus. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone all of that. Much less a complete stranger.”

“Not complete. You know my secret identity. Not many people know about that.”

He’s glad of Steve’s teasing tone. It makes it easier somehow, safer that he just spilled from his heart, told a relative stranger everything. “Which one’s the secret?”

“Depends on if you’re a little kid or not.”

Bucky adjusts the pillow behind his back and leans on the headboard. “I’m definitely all grown up.”

**

“I want to go see Santa again.” Kat comes over to Bucky’s chair and stands in front of him, arms crossed over her chest. “I membered something else.”

“I don’t think Santa’s there this late.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Honey, we’ve already seen Santa. To talk to Santa we have to get a picture taken, and I can’t afford to keep getting pictures taken.”

“Ask Grandma for the money.”

Bucky glances down and takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. He lifts his head slightly, but he doesn’t quite meet Kat’s eyes. “I know your grandma and grandpa can give you all the things you want. They can buy you all the toys and puppies and… And I know they’d give you everything you wanted. I can’t do that. I’m never going to be able to do that, Kat.”

“Daddy. I’m sorry.”

“I know you deserve all of that. And I wish I could. I wish I could give you everything, but I can only give you everything I’ve got.” He does meet her eyes now that he’s sure he’s not going to cry. It feels like tearing his own heart out. “You know you can choose. If you want to live with them.”

“I don’t want to leave you. Not ever.” Kat crawls up into his lap and wraps her arms around his neck. “I don’t care if they can buy me everything. I just want you, Daddy.”

Bucky sniffs and wraps his arm tight around her waist, the other in her hair as he holds her face against his shoulder. “I love you, pumpkin.”

“I love you too, Daddy. All of the lots.” She turns her head and snuffles against his neck. “What if we just went to the mall and I waved to Santa? He’s magic, right? He’ll know what I’m thinking.”

Bucky laughs, though his voice is a little thick with unshed tears. “Yeah. Okay. We can go and walk by. Get your shoes on. Maybe we’ll get ice cream while we’re there.”

“Really? Can we buy Santa an ice cream? He likes cold things. I bet he loves ice cream.” She slides off his lap and skips to the door, singing a bastardized version of Jingle Bells as she grabs her shoes and sits down to put them on. Bucky gets up and puts his boots on before grabbing both of their jackets. Wrangling Kat in is a lot like herding cats, because she talks with her hands and nearly smacks Bucky a few times while he’s getting her zipped up.

He grabs his keys and his wallet before taking her hand, getting her into the car easily enough. He’s had a lot of practice using just the one arm, and he doesn’t even think about it anymore. When it first happened, he was grieving Evelyn, grieving his arm, suffering from PTSD, and learning to care for a two year old. It was only because of Kat – and Evelyn’s parents threatening to take her – that Bucky managed to get himself together as quickly as he did.

He has no intention of thanking them for that.

Kat’s version of Jingle Bells has an endless number of verses and lasts all the way from their house to inside the mall. This is the second time in as many weeks, and he knows damn well he’s doing this for himself as much as he is for Kat. He’s talked to Steve every night since they first met, and they get along exceptionally well. He makes Bucky laugh, and Bucky returns the favor. They never seem to run out of things to talk about – and that’s not even taking the myriad of North Pole jokes Steve’s subjected him to, including the one about the bridge.

They’ve also talked about heavier things like Steve’s mom’s death just after Christmas several years ago, their work, past relationships. Steve’s easy to talk to, and Bucky finds himself doing just that. Probably the most he’s talked to anyone who isn’t family since Evelyn died. Possibly more than he’s talked to most of his family.

They head over toward the picture area, and there’s a line stretching down the hallway. Kat sighs, obviously disappointed. “We’re just here to see him, remember? We don’t have to wait to go over and look at him.”

“Oh, right!” She brightens up, tightens her grip on his hand and starts dragging him along the white fence until they’re closer to the overly-large chair. Kat grips the upper rail and leans against the fence, so Bucky squats down next to her, balancing himself with his hand on one of the posts. “There he is, Daddy!”

She points at the chair where two little kids are climbing off of Santa’s lap. Kat starts waving wildly with both hands.

“Santa! Santa! Hi!”

Santa turns his head and smiles and waves. “Hello, Kat! Hello, James!”

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaddy! He remembers me!”

“Of course he does, sweetheart. He’s Santa Claus.”

“I love you, Santa Claus!”

“Ho ho ho!” Steve laughs and waves again, then turns back to the next kid that’s waiting to climb into his lap. Bucky stands up and takes Kat’s hand.

“Come on. Let’s go get our ice cream, and we can walk around. See if there’s anything you might want for Christmas.”

“But I already saw Santa and told him what I wanted! I can’t change my mind now!”

“But Santa knows things, so I think it’s okay if you look and see if there’s something else.”

She thinks on it for a minute and then nods. “Okay. But after ice cream.” 

**

They’ve walked around the entire mall twice, and the novelty of it and the ice cream have worn off as far as Kat’s concerned. Bucky’s been ready to go since halfway through their first loop. 

“Can we go by and say goodnight to Santa?”

“Yah.” Bucky rubs her shoulder. “But _then_ we’re go9ing home.”

“Okay.” She yawns and leans into Bucky. Bucky stops and bends down, wrapping his arm around her upper thighs and lifting her up. She wraps her arms around his neck and snuggles in close to help keep Bucky balanced. She smells like Johnson’s baby shampoo and chocolate ice cream.

“So, what do you want to do this weekend, peanut?”

“I’m going to grandma and grandpa’s, remember?”

“That’s right.” The day has been circled in bright purple crayon since the day he put it on the calendar. “Any big plans?”

“We’re going to bake cookies and build a gingerbread house.”

“That’ll be nice. Grandma going to let you decorate them?”

“Yeah. Maybe we can make two and I can bring one home for us to decorate.”

“You don’t need to bother your grandma for that.”

“But you like it.”

“I’ll get a mix or a kit from the store, and we’ll make our own.”

“Okay. But you can’t eat all the candy though.” She frees one hand up so she can point at Bucky, her expression serious. 

“Aw, why not?”

“Silly daddy. You’ll get a tummy ache, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right! How could I forget you being up all night sick from too much candy?”

She sticks her tongue out then giggles. “You can’t catch it like this!”

“Taking advantage of your one-armed dad.” Bucky sighs, shakes his head, and lets his lower lip slide out into a pout. “Meanest.”

“Don’t tell Santa!” She keeps giggling as he walks, stopping abruptly with a surprised, “Oh.”

Bucky follows her gaze. There’s no line at the Santa area, the large seat is empty, and there’s a sign posted in the front of the area with a sign saying Santa would be back tomorrow. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He leans his head in and presses it against hers. “But we got to say hello to him earlier, so he knows you were here and thinking about him.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, her shoulders slumping. “I know, Daddy.”

“Hey!”

Bucky turns his head as Steve walks up to him. He can’t help smiling. “Steve. Hi.”

“Hi, Mr. Steve!” Kat leans forward to see around Bucky. Bucky tightens his grip on her as she sways forward. Steve reaches out to stop Kat with a hand on her shoulder. 

“You remember my name.”

Her eyes widen. “Is that okay?”

“Absolutely.” He squeezes her shoulder and lets go, turning his attention to Bucky. “Hey.”

“Hi.” Bucky knows his face is probably doing something ridiculous. Steve is even more gorgeous than he remembered, but he’s not sure if it’s humanly possible. Maybe it’s just because he knows Steve a little now. Knows him. Likes him. “What a coincidence running into you again.”

“It really is.” Steve smiles, and Bucky’s insides swoop. “Are you guys doing some Christmas shopping?”

“Nah. Just window shopping.”

“Daddy! We’re looking for presents! Not windows!”

Bucky laughs. “Window shopping is just another way of saying we’re only looking around.”

Her forehead furrows and she tilts her head. “But then what do you say if you need windows?”

“You know, kiddo, I have no idea.” He bends down and sets her back on the floor, grabbing her hand as he straightens. Steve holds out his hand as well and Kat doesn’t hesitate to grab it. Bucky swallows hard, because the swooping in his stomach is now the equivalent of kamikaze dives. 

Steve gives him a quick grin. “So, where are you guys headed?”

“Home. It’s almost this one’s bedtime. Almost mine too.” Steve knows that’s a blatant lie, because Bucky’s stayed up far later than this talking to Steve on the phone. They haven’t run out of things to talk about yet, and they haven’t even really touched on anything sexual. Sometimes he wonders if that’s even where this is headed. “Besides, too much mall.”

“I can imagine.” Steve frowns slightly, and Bucky wonders if he’s thinking about the things he’d told him about Evelyn, about when she died. This is a different mall, a different place, but that doesn’t make Bucky any less on guard about it.He’s good at hiding it from Kat, but he gets the feeling Steve can tell there’s an itch in the back of Bucky’s skull, the desire to not stop looking, not stop walking is always there, that he’s constantly on guard.

“What about you?”

“Well, I think the only thing I’ve had to eat today is candy canes, so I’m going to pick up some food and go home and watch Christmas movies. The Santa Clause, Santa Claus Is Coming to Town, The Year without a Santa Claus, Elf.”

Bucky’s holding Kat’s hand so he can’t do anything, but he’s pretty sure from the smile Steve’s sporting that he’s well aware of Bucky’s desire to punch him. 

“Daddy and I watch Charlie Brown.”

“That’s another great Christmas movie.”

“And Muppets. But sometimes that one scares me.”

“Me too!” Steve laughs delightedly and shivers. “I’m so glad I’m not the only one.”

Kat stops and releases Steve’s hand and beckons him to lean down to her. “I think the ghost of Christmas present is Santa Claus.”

“No!”

She nods solemnly. “He says ho ho ho when he laughs.”

“Oh wow. You’re right!” Steve shakes his head. “Wow.”

Bucky wants to be annoyed at Steve for humoring Kat, but his face is completely open and innocent, as if it had never occurred to him before. Bucky clears his throat and both Steve and Kat look up at him. “C’mon, pumpkin. It’s time to go home and let Mr. Steve go and get some dinner.”

“Okay.” She lets Bucky’s hand go and grabs Steve, hugging him tightly. Steve wraps his big, long, thick arms around her and hugs her back. “Goodbye, Mr. Steve.”

“Goodnight, Kat.” He straightens up. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

“Night.”

**

He waits until Kat’s settled down for the night, which she doesn’t do until she’s recapped the evening at least three times. Finally Bucky gets her tucked in and kisses her forehead, shutting the door almost all the way. 

He carries his phone into his bedroom and changes, slipping into his sweatpants and a worn t-shirt, before he crawls into bed. He leans back against the headboard, tucking his bare feet under the top of the sheets. Taking a deep breath, he pulls Steve’s name up on his phone and calls. 

“Hey, Buck.”

Bucky’s not sure if it’s a trick of the phone or if it’s a deliberate thing, but whenever Steve answers, his voice sounds a little deeper, a little throatier. “Hey. What’d you end up with for dinner?”

“I just came home, made some mac and cheese, sliced up some hot dogs, stirred it all together, and ate that.”

“No wonder you and Kat get along. You both have the same dietary habits when given the option of choosing the menu.”

“Well, obviously Kat has an extremely well-developed palate.”

“Are you really scared by _Muppet Christmas Carol_?”

“Oh, I thought she was talking about _Muppet Family Christmas_. Maybe Emmet Otter.” Bucky snorts and Steve laughs. “I was ten. The ghost of Christmas yet to come was pretty creepy. Even Gonzo and Rizzo were scared of him.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe so. But you like me anyway.”

“Eh. You’re not a beauty, but hey you’re alright.”

Steve’s quiet for a moment. “Did you just quote Springsteen at me?”

“Maybe.”

“Bucky. He’s from _Jersey_.”

It takes Bucky a second to realize Steve is serious. “You’re discounting one of the more iconic of American singer-songwriters because he’s from Jersey?”

“Yes.”

“What if I was from Jersey?”

“I would miss you very much.”

Bucky cracks up. “Oh my god.”

“What? I have _standards_.”

“Mm-hmm.” He listens to Steve laugh as well. “So how come you recognized the line?”

“Because I had an ex with no standards.” He pauses briefly before talking again. “And, no, that’s not why he was dating me.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.”

“I gave you the perfect straight man line, you were going to say that.”

“Shit. You’re straight? Wow. This just got awkward.”

“That’s it. You’re going on the naughty list.”

“Promise?”

Steve’s breath catches then everything’s quiet. Even though it’s clear they’re both attracted to each other, neither of them has brought up anything particularly sexual before this. He stutters a few times until Steve talks and stops him. 

“Does that mean you want coal in your stocking?”

“Is that a euphemism?”

Steve chokes. “Oh my god. You are horrible.”

“Hey, you hit on me. You’ve only got yourself to blame.”

“Well, I’ve been questioned about my lack of taste and intelligence a few times - most recently by you - so…”

“Kat’s going to Evelyn’s parents’ house for the weekend.” The words rush out, tumbling all over each other. 

Steve hums softly. “I work all weekend. During the day.”

“I’m free in the evenings. If you want to do something. Dinner. Or something.”

“I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Bucky can’t stop himself from smiling. “I drop her off at about five on Friday. What time are you off work?”

“Not until nine.”

“Oh. Well, I could give you my address and you could come over after?I mean, my bedtime is usually pretty early, but I can probably make myself stay awake.”

“You’ve kept me up until two in the morning several nights this past week.” Steve reminds him.

“You’ve let me.”

Steve laughs. “Text me your address and I’ll see you Friday.”

“Sounds good.” He bites his lower lip and takes a deep breath. “See you then.”

**

Evelyn’s mother opens the door at Bucky’s knock. Whatever smile had been on her face disappears into a tight line. “James.”

“Felicia.”

“Grandma!” Kat drops her backpack on the ground at the base of the stairs and runs up to get enveloped in a hug from her grandmother. Bucky goes and picks it up, dusting it off before carrying it back up and handing it to Kat. “I have so much to tell you. We met Santa Claus, and he remembered me and we met Mr. Steve and he remembered me and we’ve been to the mall twice and Daddy said maybe we could get a puppy!”

“Kat,” Bucky says, soft but stern.

“Okay, I told him I wanted a puppy.But I said I wanted it for _Christmas_ so I might get it, though Santa Claus said puppies can’t really ride in the sleigh. Hi, Jameson!” She slips away from Felicia and into the house. Jameson is Felicia’s secretary, and she adores Kat.

Bucky exhales through his nose and manages a smile for Felicia. She simply raises an eyebrow. “You’re looking rather frazzled, James.”

“I’ve been working quite a bit, but I wanted to make sure I got her here on time.”

“You know, if your work is time-consuming, we’d be happy to have Katrina stay here with us.”

“No. It’s fine. We’re fine. But thank you for the offer.”

It’s a standing offer, as you know.” She glances at her watch. “What are your plans for Christmas?”

“The same as usual. We’ll have Christmas Eve at home, and then come here on Christmas Day.”

“And next weekend?”

Bucky does his best not to clench his jaw. “Also the same as usual. She and I will go out and put flowers on her mother’s grave, then we’ll go to lunch at Evelyn’s favorite place, then we’ll go home and watch a movie and talk about it again if she wants, now that she’s older and can understand things a little better.”

“I’m not sure how there’s anything to understand. Some self-entitled, judgemental white man decided to open fire and killed a couple of brown girls, since that’s what they do.”

“Well, I’d like her to not be afraid of every white man she sees.”

“Pretty sure you should get rid of the white men then.” Felicia doesn’t cross her arms over her chest, since it’s not ladylike, but her glare is the equivalent of it. “Present company excepted,” she flat out lies. “Of course.”

“I’d say I’m sorry she didn’t marry Thomas, but I’m not. I know you approved of him and prefer the color of his skin, but she loved me. And I loved her. And I’m never going to apologize for that.And i f it weren’t for us being together, none of us would have Kat.”

“She deserves to have the opportunities you can’t give her. The school isn’t enough. She deserves to grow up around people who are like her. Who understand her.”

“If you believe that, then why the hell are you insisting she go to that school?”

Feclicia sucks in a sharp breath, and the skin around her lips goes white from how hard she’s pressing them together. “I think it would best for you to leave, James.”

“I’ll be back Sunday evening. Call me if anything comes up.”

“Of course. I’m sure you’d be ever so much help.”

Bucky turns and heads back to his car, proud of himself for not flipping her off, no matter how much he wants to. She’s always vitriolic at this time of year, the wound of Evelyn’s death rubbed raw near Christmas. Bucky wishes he didn’t blame her for it, but he can’t always help it. He loved Evelyn with everything he had, and he lost her too.

Once he’s cleared the driveway and made it out of the gated community, he pulls off to the side of the road, turns off the car, and hangs his head. He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands and rests his forehead on the steering wheel. He breathes carefully until his heart stops racing, then he restarts the car.

He picks up two take-n-bake pizzas for him and Steve, as well as a burger from the drive-through to tide himself over. Watching TV is a lost cause, as is reading, so he puts on some music, stretches out on the couch and closes his eyes.

Kat’s an amazing kid but, for all of that, she is still a kid and being a single parent is exhausting enough without throwing on Evelyn’s mother’s anger. He works through a series of deep breaths like his therapist taught him to. He’d brought home a dose of PTSD, which was only exacerbated by Evelyn’s death and suddenly being a single father when he’d barely had a chance to be a father at all, so he’s spent more than his fair share of time in therapy. Breathing helps. 

Not always, but enough.

About half an hour before Steve’s supposed to get off work, Bucky goes in and starts preheating the oven. He grabs a beer from the fridge and opens it, sipping it as he waits for the light to go off. He normally doesn’t drink much, and certainly not at home, but he’d picked up a six pack on his lunch break so they’d have something to drink. He doesn’t think Steve has anything against Capri Sun, but better safe than sorry.

He’s taking the first pizza out of the oven when there’s a knock at the door. He sets it down to cool and slides the second one in before heading to the door. His stomach is fluttering like he swallowed ladybugs and butterflies as he opens it. 

Steve’s wearing a pair of jeans that hug his thighs and just about every other inch of him they cover, and a green sweater that Bucky wants to steal right off of him. Steve smiles as soon as he sees him. “Hey, Buck.”

“You found the place okay?”

“Yeah. I parked behind you. I hope that’s okay.” 

“That’s fine. You’re not vegetarian or vegan are you? Or allergic to anything like gluten, right? Because I got pizza. And I will eat all of it if you can’t have any, but I really don’t know what else you’re going to eat unless you like peanut butter.”

“Grocery shopping on your weekend list?”

“It’s easier when Kat’s at her grandparents. It means I get out of the store with less sugar and more money than when she comes along.”

“Pizza’s great.”

Bucky nods further into the house and heads into the kitchen. “I got something with a lot of meat and something with a lot of meat, but with a veggie or two to pretend it’s healthy. What would you like?” Before Steve can say anything, Bucky holds up his hand. “I should tell you that only the all meat one is done.”

“Meat sounds good.”

“Beer?”

“Yes, please.”

Steve moves over to the kitchen table and Bucky brings over the beer before heading back for pizza. He dishes up three pieces for each of them then comes back to sit across from Steve. “So. How was the North Pole today?”

“Good. I’m ready to be done with candy canes though. They stick in the beard and the fur. It’s terrible.”

“The Santa beard or yours?”

Steve laughs and strokes his beard with his fingers. “This one’s a little easier to manage and clean, so I have less problem with it.”

Bucky watches him for a moment, shaking off the urge to reach out and touch the beard himself. “Okay, worst Santa story.”

“Oh, all the regulars. I’ve been screamed at, peed on, cried on, snotted on, thrown up on. I’ve been kneed in the groin more times than I want to think about. I’ve actually had my dick stepped on by some kid who thought he should climb on my shoulders. I’ve had women hit on me. I’ve had a guy offer to dress up as my elf for the night if I’d let him, and I quote, ‘ride my sleigh’.”

“Oh my god.”

“Fortunately, he was the one who had to explain it to his little brother when he asked him what it meant.”

Bucky laughs. “And yet you still do it.”

Steve shrugs and smiles slightly. “Little kids deserve magic. There’s not enough of it in the world. If I can give a little…” Steve shrugs. “It’s nice. Most of it. The kids get so excited and they all hive this look of wonder in their eyes. There’s so much shit going on in the world, that it’s nice to get to make that happen, you know?”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs and takes a drink of his beer. He watches as Steve finishes a slice of pizza. “You really made Kat’s day. Both times. She’s probably telling her grandparents and anyone else who will listen that she’s close, personal friends with Santa Claus.”

“Santa thinks she’s a pretty great kid.”

“Well, Santa’s right.”

“Santa also thinks her dad is pretty awesome too.”

“This is starting to edge into creepy territory.”

“Fair.” Steve reaches out and takes Bucky’s wrist in his hand, tugging lightly. Bucky gets out of his chair and walks over to Steve. Steve shifts his chair and moves his legs out from under the table. He pulls until Bucky is sanding in front of his knees. “This okay?”

Bucky looks down at him, and Steve’s eyes are shadowed by his eyelashes, his cheeks are flushed, his lower lip wet from where he licks it. “Yeah.” Bucky moves closer, straddling Steve’s legs then sinking down onto his thighs. “This okay?”

“Very.”

“You have pizza sauce on your chin.” 

Steve’s hand curves around the back of Bucky’s head, and he pulls him in. His eyes close and his head tilts and their lips brush. It’s like a book of matches going up in a spark, even though the kiss is soft and innocent. 

They kiss again and again, light and barely there. Bucky’s breath feels caught in his lungs, like he can’t breathe with how much he wants this and wants more. “I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you,” Steve whispers against Bucky’s mouth, catching Bucky’s lower lip between his own and sucking lightly. “The things I want to do to your mouth.”

“Yeah?” Bucky asks, breathless.

“You were biting your bottom lip, and I wanted to sink my teeth into it.”

Bucky can’t help but bite his lower lip, and Steve groans. Suddenly they’re kissing, mouths moving together. Soft, teasing kisses and warm presses of lips. It’s been so long since Bucky’s kissed anyone, he feels a little overwhelmed by the feeling. He keeps his lips together, and Steve doesn’t push though he does keep catching Bucky’s lip and sucking on it. Bucky moans low in his throat and puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders, rubbing his palms over them. His knees tighten, and Steve drops a hand to Bucky’s waist, curving his fingers in his belt loop.

Bucky slides his hands up to Steve’s throat. His skin is hot and when Bucky pulls back slightly, he can see that Steve’s face and neck are flushed. He lets out a shaky breath and meets Steve’s eyes. His pupils are dilated, the ring of blue barely visible. He leans back in to kiss him, beard rasping against Bucky’s stubble. The sound sends a jolt to Bucky’s groin and he can’t help the whimper that escapes. Steve sucks in a breath and the next thing Bucky knows, Steve’s hands are under his ass and he’s standing up.

“Oh fuck,” Bucky gasps softly.

Steve carries him into the living room and lowers Bucky onto the couch. He kneels between Bucky’s spread legs and braces himself over him so just their thighs are touching. “Okay?”

Bucky catches Steve by the nape of his neck and pulls him down, kissing him hard. Steve lowers himself slowly, his elbows on the cushion beside Bucky’s head. He keeps his weight off of Bucky even as he surrenders to the kiss. Bucky hooks one leg over Steve’s ass and pulls him closer until they’re pressed together. Steve’s body goes stiff as they touch then he shivers and relaxes. He tilts his head and takes over the kiss, tongue flickering against the seam of Bucky’s lips.

Bucky pulls back and licks his lips. He feels drugged, probably looks it. “I haven’t…”

“Just kissing,” Steve assures him, pressing another soft, barely there touch to Bucky’s mouth. “Just want to kiss you. Taste you.”

Bucky has to keep himself from arching up into Steve’s body, from surrendering completely to the warm rumble of his voice. “H-haven’t done that either. Even longer than the other.”

“If it helps, you’re doing great.”

Bucky laughs, though it ends up more of a breathless giggle. “Thanks.”

This time Steve bites Bucky’s lower lip and sucks it into his mouth. Bucky can feel the goosebumps rising on his skin, the trembling in his hands. When he releases him, pulls back, Bucky can’t help but pull his lip back into his own mouth, soothing the bite with his tongue. They stare at each other for a long minute, then Bucky pulls Steve down again, opening his mouth to him.

Steve’s breath stutters out of him and his tongue slides over Bucky’s. They lose time tasting each other, kisses swinging between soft and chaste to heated and desperate. It’s only the weight of Steve on top of him that keeps Bucky from shaking apart, keeping him firm against the couch. He’s not sure how long they kiss, but when Steve pulls back and rests his forehead against Bucky’s, they’re both breathing hard. His jeans are pressing against his cock, but it’s like a distant throbbing rather than an ache.

Steve’s lips are red and swollen, his lashes brushing his cheeks as he looks down at Bucky through lidded eyes. “Sorry,” he murmurs as he ducks down and kisses Bucky again. “I’m trying to think about baseball, but you’re kind of distracting.”

Steve’s cock is heavy against Bucky, but Bucky doesn’t care. Wants it pressed to him. Wants to feel the reassuring weight. “It’s okay. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of having the same problem.”

“Don’t want you to feel pressured at all.”

“I don’t.” He reaches up and rubs his thumb over Steve’s bottom lip. “Kiss me again.”

Steve obliges, teasing Bucky’s mouth, sliding the tip of his tongue over Bucky’s palate, over the edges of his teeth, licking at his lips. Bucky’s hands are tight on Steve’s hips, holding him hard against him so he can’t thrust up into him, so neither of them can get leverage to move, to grind together. Steve nuzzles along Bucky’s jaw, then licks at his earlobe. Bucky squirms slightly when it tickles, but then Steve’s voice is hot in his ear.

“You’re so beautiful. All laid out underneath me, red lips and dark eyes, pure decadence.”

Bucky has to squeeze his thighs together to keep some semblance of control. It’s nearly impossible when Steve moves down, kissing the line of Bucky’s throat. His beard scrapes and tickles against the sensitive skin, and he feels like every inch of him is electrically charged. “Oh, God. Steve.” He tilts his head, offering more access, offering himself up. Steve bites and sucks and kisses, leaving the hot burn of his beard behind. He manages to wrap his other leg around Steve’s waist, his muscles going taut, trapping Steve and keeping him from moving.

Keeping Bucky from moving.

Steve moves to the other side of Bucky’s throat, tugging his collar aside so he can scrape his teeth over the join of Bucky’s neck and shoulder. Bucky whimpers and he doesn’t know where to put his hand. They move from Steve’s hips to his ass to his back to his arms and then back again. Finally he slides his hand under Steve’s sweater and feels skin and he can’t help but dig his nails into Steve’s back.

Steve hums against Bucky’s skin and it’s almost too much. Bucky goes limp and Steve stops immediately, moving his arms so he’s braced over Bucky again. He can see the tension corded in Steve’s muscles, see his arms quiver as he holds himself still. His voice is like rumbling gravel, like sticky honey coating Bucky with warmth and want. “Talk to me.”

“Need a breather. Just… It’s getting to be too much.” Steve lets out a long, slow breath then carefully eases himself off of the couch. Bucky winces when he sees the hard bulge of Steve’s cock in his jeans. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying…”

“Hey, it’s okay. Take a minute. I’ll be right back.” Steve disappears down the hall toward the bathroom, but comes back just a few moments later, not long enough to have taken care of the problem they both have. Bucky’s managed to sit up, and his body still feels like it’s on fire. When Steve comes back, he goes straight to the kitchen, grabs a box of pizza, their plates, and two beers, bringing them back to the couch. “You think there’s a Christmas special on?”

“We were just making out to the point that I was about to come in my pants, and you want to watch ‘Charlie Brown Christmas’?”

“I was thinking Christmas Story or maybe Elf, but I’m good with Charlie Brown.” He hands Bucky a beer. “It’s a little too heavy-handed what with Linus reading from the Bible, but if that’s your thing. I mean, it’s likely to get rid of my problem.”

“You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”

Steve shrugs one shoulder and opens his own beer. He gives Bucky a sly look and a shit-eating grin. “Yeah, but I’m a damn good kisser.”

Bucky doesn’t respond, and it’s clear Steve takes it as a win. Bucky gets up slowly and puts a movie in then comes back to the couch, sitting next to Steve. After a couple more hours of watching movies, eating pizza, and making out until they’re both right at the edge, Steve rises off the couch. “I should go. Early day for Santa.”

“And Santa has to jerk off before he goes to work?”

“Something like that.” He braces his hand on the arm of the couch and leans down, kissing Bucky again. It’s probably supposed to be just a quick kiss, but it ends with Steve with a knee on the couch, his hand buried in Bucky’s hair, and both of them gasping as they pull apart. “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Am I too much for you, Rogers?”

Steve kisses him again, hard and quick. “You’ve got no idea.”

“Lock the door behind you.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You’re not even going to walk me to the door?”

“I’ve got a serious case of blue balls. The only place I’m going is to my bedroom. And I doubt it’ll be classified as walking so much as waddling. And I’m still trying to impress you, so you can’t see that.”

“You telling me about it was okay though?”

Bucky shrugs. “Call me?”

Steve kisses him one more time and walks a few steps backwards toward the door. “Night, Buck.”

Bucky licks his lips, wanting one last taste of Steve’s kisses. “Night.”

**

One of the other Santas calls out sick – apparently not a rare occurrence – so Steve ends up having to work all day, begging off coming over to Bucky’s. He calls Bucky as soon as he gets home, which keeps Bucky from spiraling, from thinking Steve doesn’t want to be around him because all he could manage was some kissing. They talk for hours like normal, only now there’s an edge to the words, and Bucky has to catch himself a few times to keep from saying something that he’s fairly certain would lead to him having phone sex for the first time.

He thinks Steve might suffer from the same problem, since there are more pauses than normal, rough breaths that burn through the phone line. 

“You know,” Steve says after one of those pauses, clearing his throat after he speaks. “I don’t know what you do for work.”

“Well, until Kat got into school, we lived off disability and the mall settlement. I mean, the shooting wasn’t their fault, but they still settled with us. Most of it went into a college – or at least a life after high school – fund for Kat. I used some of Evelyn’s to pay off the house. Her parents paid for the funeral, which was everything Evelyn wouldn’t have wanted, but there was nothing in writing, and they’d just lost their daughter. I wasn’t really in any position to make decisions at that point. The rest of it went to Kat.”

“That must have been - ” 

“It was. No matter what you’re thinking about saying, it was. Hard. Horrible. Painful. Humiliating.” It’s Bucky’s turn to clear his throat. His voice is softer than normal. He wonders if he talks too much about Evelyn. “Once Kat went into pre-school, I was able to get a job. I work at an elementary school as a secretary. It’s not the greatest job, but I get holidays and the summer off, so I get to spend them with Kat.”

“That’s nice. A lot of parents don’t have that.” Steve’s voice is soft as well. “You’re lucky.”

“Had to get at least something out of this, right?” He clears his throat again to get rid of the bitterness. “What about you? What do you do the other 364 days of the year?”

“Well, unlike the one true Santa, I have to work a little longer. I do this nights and weekends from the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas Eve. The rest of the time I work for a small advertising firm doing graphic design and sales.”

“How long have you been doing that?”

“Hired me right out of school, so quite a few years. I bought out one of the owners last year, so I guess it’s half my firm.”

“I think that’s a little different than working for a firm.”

“I do work! I just do a little more than that too.” Steve laughs.

“Well, I’m nowhere near half-owning my own business.”

“I’m nowhere near owning my house or having a family, so I guess, in some ways, we’re even.”

“You want a family?” Bucky stretches out on the couch, frowning at his feet while he waits for Steve’s response.

“Well, after I realized I was gay, I didn’t think it was in the cards. I mean, yeah, it was a possibility, but I never really had a partner I wanted that with, and I didn’t want to do it alone. In theory? Yeah. If I had the right person to share it with.” He sighs softly, and he has to know what Bucky’s actually asking, even though they’re nowhere near that point, if they ever even get there. “What about you? Did you guys start a family on purpose?”

“We weren’t trying, but we weren’t not trying either. We figured we’d let it happen if it happened.”

“It sounds like you two were really, really happy together.”

“We were.” Bucky sighs quietly. “Is that a problem?”

“That you were happy with your wife?” He can practically see Steve’s furrowed brow.

“That I had a wife, I guess. Have a kid. I mean. Not that we’re at that stage or anything. At all. Or near it. But I guess before we get to that point, I think I should know if any of that’s a deal breaker.”

“It doesn’t bother me that you’ve been in love and married before. Doesn’t bother me that it was with a woman. And I know Kat’s the biggest part of that question, and I wish I could give you a definitive answer.”

“What does that mean?”

“It doesn’t bother me that you have a kid. I just… I’ve never been with someone who has one, so I can’t give you a certainty. I don’t think it would be an issue if you and I pursue something. But I don’t want to lie and say that it absolutely won’t.” He’s quiet for a moment, and Bucky chews his lower lip. He’s glad Steve’s being honest, but he’s not sure if he likes the answer. “And I get that it’s a deal breaker for you.”

“It is. Whoever I’m with will have to accept Kat. Love her. I’m a package deal.”

“Understood.”

“But no one knows really, do they? I mean, fuck, I don’t want to let my daughter get close to you if you’re going to fuck off on us, but how am I going to know unless I let you get close?”

“We have some time before we’d have to worry about that though.”

“Yeah. But what if I get close to you and you fuck off on me?”

“Same thing.” Steve exhales slowly, and his voice is low and soft. “Kissing you was amazing. I could have been there all night and kept doing just that. But it was one night. And not even a date. So you may not even really like me.”

“We’ve been talking on the phone for three weeks. Pretty sure I like you.”

“I like you too. And I’d like to take you out on a date.”

“Next weekend’s not doable. We’re having dinner with my in-laws. It’s the anniversary of Evelyn’s death, so I’ll take Kat to the cemetery and then we’ll watch a movie together. After that we go over to their house and they sort of pretend to be civil to me for Kat’s sake.”

“Do they know you’re bisexual?”

“It’s never come up.”

“Is that going to cause problems for you?”

“Honestly? Probably. But I don’t know for sure. They can’t take Kat away from me though. They know that. They’ll probably just hate me more. First for being poor, second for being white, third for stealing their daughter away, fourth for surviving when she didn’t, fifth for refusing to give up custody, and sixth for being not-straight. What’s one more reason, right?”

“Was it like this before she died?”

“Some of it. Mostly they were disappointed in her for marrying below her station. I wasn’t what they wanted for her. They had a husband all picked out. Good family, good breeding, good manners. Then she went and joined the Army and ended up with the riff-raff.” Bucky laughs, mostly at himself. “That’s probably not quite true. I think they liked me all right, especially after Kat was born, but after… Nothing was the same after.”

“Hey. I’m sorry. We can talk about something else.”

“I’ve never really talked about it with anyone. Everyone either knew her or knew me, and once it happened, everything changed. Relationships were different. People reacted differently. _I_ was different. She bled out in my arms, and I couldn’t do a thing to save her.”

“Bucky.”

“Sorry. I’m probably scaring you off. No functioning left arm, a precocious four-year-old.”

“Four-and-a-half.”

Bucky laughs. “Right. Sorry. A ton of issues with my dead wife’s family. A ton of issues and guilt stemming from my wife’s death. No wonder people aren’t lining up to date me.”

“I am.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re gorgeous and funny and smart and you care so much about your daughter that it practically shines out of you. Because you love your wife and you don’t apologize for it. Because you trust me enough to tell me all of this, to be vulnerable. Because you laugh at my stupid Santa jokes.” He laughs softly, and Bucky can’t help but do the same. “We all have things. Yours is a lot more traumatic than my ex telling me that he was leaving me so he could have an affair with his boss, but it’s still life.”

“So he wouldn’t cheat on you, but he’d help his boss cheat on his wife or husband?”

“I didn’t really push for details.”

“How long ago was that?”

“About a year. I was wearing my Santa suit when he told me. I did not, in the aftermath, ho ho ho.”

“Not even to call him one?”

Steve snorts. “Nope. Though I may have told him we weren’t playing any more reindeer games.”

“Now you’re taking it somewhere weird.” Sighing, Bucky closes his eyes. “Thanks.”

“We’re friends.”

“That make out?”

“Well, I’m not opposed to making out with you.”

“I gathered that last time.” Bucky hums. “Wish you were here to make out with.”

“I’d come over, but I’d probably fall asleep on you.” Steve yawns, as if he’s making a point. “And I have to be holly and jolly at nine in the morning.”

“Okay.” Bucky bites his lower lip. “Night, Steve.”

“Mm. Night, Buck.”

**

The next week is something like hell. Kat’s preschool is out for the year, but Bucky still has a week to go. Fortunately he has Evelyn’s best friend Natasha to help out since she works from home.

He doesn’t know if Kat knows it’s almost the anniversary of her mom’s death, if Evelyn’s parents said anything to her, or if she can just feel the general tension in the air. Either way, she’s pouty and temperamental and keeps refusing to do anything Bucky asks her to. Fortunately she’s better behaved for Natasha, but not by much.

It all comes to a head Saturday morning. Bucky already feels like shit – he didn’t sleep and Steve hadn’t been able to talk last night, so nothing’s been going right for over twelve hours. He rubs his eyes as he walks down the hall, stopping at the door to Kat’s room.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“I’m not going.” She crosses her arms over her chest, causing her nightgown to bunch up underneath her chin.

Bucky lets out a rough sigh. “Not going where?”

“To see Mommy.”

“Okay.” Bucky walks in and sits on the foot of the mattress, turning sideways and putting one knee up so he can face her. “Why not?”

“Because she’s dead.”

That hits Bucky like a punch in the chest. “I know.”

“And I don’t want her to be, but she _is_. She left me.”

He lets out a slow breath. “If she could be here, she would. And it’s okay to be angry. But she never would have left you on purpose.”

“She could have let those people die!”

That’s way more information than Bucky’s ever given her, so there’s only one person it could have come from. Rather than get angry, Bucky moves further onto the mattress, offering his hand to Kat. She frowns at it for a while before taking it and crawling onto Bucky’s lap. “She could have. But that’s not the kind of person your mom was. She always helped people. She always cared about them. The woman who got shot. She was going to have a baby.”

“Mommy already had a baby!”

“I know. I know, pumpkin.” He presses his face to the top of her head. “You were the last thing she ever talked about. She told me how much she loves you and how proud of you she was and how she was going to miss you more than anything in the world.”

“Even you?”

“Yeah.” He laughs softly, and he’s sure his tears are warm on her skin. “More than even me.”

“Did that make you cry?”

“No. Because I would have said those exact words if it had been me. Because nothing is bigger than our love for you. And every day I wish she was here for you. I wish she could see what an amazing little girl you are. But she had to save those people. That’s who your mom was. That’s the kind of person she was. She didn’t put herself first. She saw that woman was going to have a baby, and she knew what that meant, and she couldn’t be selfish with that feeling. She wanted the lady to live to feel it. To know what it was like to have a perfect baby in her arms.”

“But what about my Mommy’s arms?”

“She did what she thought was right. And you can be angry at her for being gone, and you can be hurt, but you can’t blame her for doing what she thought was right. That’s all we can do. That’s what we’re supposed to do. Do the right thing.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I know. No one really likes it, because the right thing is usually the hardest thing.” He kisses the top of her head. “I’d really like it if you came with me today. We’ll give your mom some flowers, we’ll get ice cream, we’ll come home and watch a movie, and then we’ll go to Grandma and Grandpa’s for dinner.”

“Grandma thinks it’s your fault.”

Bucky’s jaw clenches tight. “Did she say that to you?”

“No. Not really. I just heard her say to Grandpa that if it weren’t for you, Mommy would still be here.”

“I’d do anything in the world to give your mommy back to you, Kat. I wish that I could. But there’s nothing we can do now except remember her. And I’m sorry you heard Grandma say that.”

“Is it true?”

“No. The only person who’s to blame for your mommy not being here is the man who shot her. No one else.”

**

_I know today’s a rough one for you. Thinking about you & Kat_

Bucky rereads the message a couple of times while he’s waiting for Kat. He told Steve he had plans with Kat for the day, but he doesn’t remember telling him what they were. Not that the story was a secret, Steve had admitted he knew about it before Bucky had told him so the information is out there, but still. The sentiment lights something up inside him.

“Daddy!” He looks up from his phone and blinks. She’s standing at the base of the stairs wearing the Elsa costume that she’d worn at Halloween. She twirls and Bucky’s fairly certain he sees glitter and sparkles in the air and about to get trodden into his carpet. “Do I look pretty?”

“You look beautiful. That’s what you want to wear?”

She nods seriously. “Mommy didn’t get to see me at Halloween.”

“That’s true.”

“And she hasn’t seen Frozen, so I have to tell her all about it, and it helps if I’m in my dress.” She nods seriously, and Bucky has to smile. Kat has the same spirit as her mother, and she always reminds Bucky so forcefully of Evelyn, and today with her hair braided and her wide smile she gives him in return, he’s suddenly overwhelmed with missing her. He goes down onto his knees and holds out his arm to his side. Kat hurries over and wraps her arms around Bucky’s neck. “Don’t be sad, Daddy.”

“I’ll always be sad that your mommy is gone, sweetheart. But right now I’m happy thinking about how proud of you she would be. You’re so smart and thoughtful and beautiful.”

Kat steps back and frames Bucky’s face in her hands. “She’d be proud of you too, Daddy. Cause you love me enough for both of you.”

Bucky leans in and kisses her forehead. “Alright, Princess Elsa. Let’s get your boots on.”

“She’s a _Queen_ , Daddy.”

“Oh, you’re right. I’m _so_ very sorry, your highness.” 

She giggles as she goes to get her snow boots, sitting down on the floor to tug them on. Bucky usually doesn’t drive in the snow, not liking the limited control he has with just one hand, but fortunately there isn’t too much on the ground. He bundles Kat up in her puffy jacket, promising that he’ll let her take it off to show off her costume as a way to get her to wear it. 

She hums songs from Frozen the entire way to the cemetery and Bucky hums along. He really needs to sue Disney for psychological damages. They park not far from Evelyn’s gravesite, and Bucky gives Kat the flowers and takes her hand. Evelyn’s in her family plot, and there’s a tombstone etched with angels and books and flowers. He thinks. He can’t stand to look at it, since it’s everything Evelyn _didn’t_ want. 

Kat approaches the grave after giving Bucky a quick, questioning look and waiting for his nod. “Mommy, Daddy and I came to visit. We brought you flowers. Daddy says they’re your favorites. They’re called dollies.”

“Dahlias, pumpkin.”

“Okay. Dailies.” She nods and looks back at the grave. She doesn’t look up at the tombstone either, instead she looks down at the grass covered ground, the green peeking out from the snow. “And I got dressed up for you.” She looks at Bucky then the ground, then back at Bucky, before setting the flowers down and unzipping her jacket. “I’m wearing Elsa’s dress. She’s a queen. The snow queen. And Daddy says that I can be her – I can be anything – even though I’m Tiana’s color and not Elsa’s.”

She hands her coat to Bucky and stands there with her arms spread. 

“She does magic. If I could do magic, I would give Daddy another arm and I would have you back. Daddy says that’s not how it works, no matter how much I want it to, so I didn’t ask Santa for it. OH! Oh, Mommy! Santa knows my name! And I didn't even tell him I wanted a puppy, because Daddy said we're not ready to handle one and, even though Grandma would have a puppy, I don't want to live with her and Grandpa because I would miss Daddy so much."

Bucky closes his eyes, smiling and shaking his head. Fuck, he loves his kid.

"Anyway, we're going to go get pancakes and Daddy says I can have as much syrup as I want! And then we're going to see Grandma and Grandpa and then we're going to watch _Muppet Christmas Carol_ , even though it's scary, because I like it anyways, and I'm five now, and not a little baby. It scares Mr. Steve too, and he's an _adult_. Mr. Steve is a guy from the mall and he's super nice and he found my coat and gave it to Santa."

She runs out of steam and shivers, so Bucky helps her with his coat as much as he can. She wiggles into it, and then looks back at the grave. "I love you, Mommy."

Bucky closes his eyes again and exhales a long, slow breath. He presses his hand lightly to the top of Kat's head then bends down to kiss it. He straightens and looks at the base of the monument. "We miss you, Ev."

He steps back and takes Kat's hand. She looks up at him, wide-eyed. "Pancakes now?"

"With as much syrup as you can handle."

She lets go of his hand and starts to run toward the car, but stops and turns around, waving. "Bye Mommy! I hope you're having fun in heaven!" 

She heads for the car again, and Bucky has to blink against the tears he can't help. He wipes them away and sniffles, glad he can blame his red nose on the cold, then follows Kat to where she's already in the back seat and sitting on her booster. Bucky checks to make sure she's strapped in then does the same for himself once he gets in. "Ready?"

"Can I have the brown, red, and blue syrup?"

"All at once?" He sees her eyes widen, and realizes he might just have created a monster.

"I can _do that_ >?"

Definitely a monster.

**

They survive the afternoon with Evelyn's parents. It's mostly catty remarks by Felicia and absolute silence from Evelyn's dad. He manages to convey utter disdain without a word though, and Bucky has learned not to squirm whenever he has to look over at Charles.

Bucky hopes most of Felicia's remarks go over Kat's head, because Bucky doesn't want to have to explain them. She seems engrossed in looking at a picture album of Evelyn growing up. Bucky hasn't seen the photos, and he knows there aren't any of him in there. He knows the wedding album that sits on their shelf is only filled with pictures that are solely Evelyn. 

"Who's this, Grandma?"

"That's Thomas. Your mother's… Well. Your mother was going to marry him."

"But then she met Daddy and fell in love!" Kat bounces slightly on the cushion, a feat in and of itself, since the sofa is rock hard. "And then they had me because they love each other, and wanted to have me to share it with." She frowns down at the picture. "If she married Thomas, I wouldn't be here."

"Of course you would!"

"But I wouldn't be the same." She looks up at Bucky. "Would I, Daddy?"

"And your mother would be here today."

Kat hasn't looked away from Bucky. "But Daddy wouldn't. And I don't want one or another. I want both." She finally looks up at her grandmother. "Do you not love me because I'm Daddy's? I know you don't like Daddy."

"Did your father tell you that?"

"No. You're mean to him." She frowns and her brow wrinkles. Bucky's not sure if she's going to start crying or throw a tantrum. He's not sure which he would prefer. "If you don't love Daddy, then you don't love me, do you?"

"Of course I love you, Katrina."

"My name is Kat."

"Your name is Katrina. That is what your mother named you."

"You want Daddy to be dead and Mommy to be alive." Kat stares at her grandmother. "And you don't love me because my daddy isn't Thomas. Do you?"

"Katrina. You're my grandchild. I love you. You remind me so much of your mother. I don't hate your father. I'm just concerned he can't provide for you, that he can't give you everything you need."

"You hate him and you hate me!" Kat shoves the photo album away and runs over to Bucky, climbing into his lap and burying her head against his shoulder.

"Kat, honey." Bucky keeps his voice soft, his hand curved around the base of Kat's skull, resting over the soft hair at the nape of her neck. "You're wrong. Grandma and Grandpa love you very much. With all their hearts."

"They o-only love Mommy!"

"That's not true. They love you and love that you're in their life. And they don't hate me. I make them sad because they see me, and they wish your Mommy was with me, and that's okay. They miss your mommy as much as you and I do."

Kat turns her head slightly, peeking out at Felicia. Felicia is sitting there looking more human than Bucky's ever seen her. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

She turns her head back toward him. "I want to go home."

"Okay." He stands up, holding her against him after shifting him to his right. "Say goodnight to your grandma and grandpa." She mumbles the word into Bucky's shoulder. Evelyn looks at Bucky, and he shakes his head. "I'll drop her off next weekend as usual. Goodnight." 

Kat sniffles the whole ride home, but she doesn't cry. Bucky makes popcorn and puts in _Muppet Family Christmas_ for something light and follows it with _Emmet Otter's Jugband Christmas_. Kat falls asleep about ten minutes in, so Bucky carries her upstairs and gets her changed into pajamas. Sometimes he thinks about how far he's come and what he manages to do, and feels pretty good about himself.

He does his best not to think about how far he has to go. 

He goes back downstairs and turns off the DVD and the lights, puts the popcorn bowl away, and finally heads up the stairs. He doesn't care that it's not even six in the evening, he's exhausted. He changes and crawls into bed. He's worried sleep won't come - that he's too emotionally wound up, but when he opens his eyes and glances at the clock it's well after eleven.

He groans and sits up, propping one of his pillows behind him on the headboard. It falls when he leans over the side of the bed to grab his phone. There aren't any messages, but Bucky opens his app anyway and rereads the one from Steve. Before he can think about it, he presses on the screen to call him.

His voice is low and soft. Soothing.

Bucky promptly bursts into tears.

He finally calms down, reduced to just sniffles, and he realizes Steve's been talking to him the entire time, reassuring. He doesn't tell Bucky it will be alright. He just tells Bucky to cry all he needs to, that he's allowed to grieve, that he's allowed to be overwhelmed, that Steve is there, that Bucky can breathe.

Bucky takes a deep breath and exhales, slow and shaky. He sniffs. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize. I can't tell you how many times I called my friend Sam after my mom died, crying and freaking out. And she was older and had been sick for a while. Evelyn's death was sudden and shocking, and you immediately had to step up. It's okay."

"You really are Santa Claus, aren't you?"

"Nah. We're just good buddies. Maybe you can meet him some day."

"If I stay off the naughty list?"

Steve laughs, and it makes Bucky smile. "Well, I have no problem with you being naughty, but the big guy would probably have an issue with it. Keeps tons of lists. Anal retentive bastard. And the elves! You should hear them bitch about how he micromanages them constantly. I helped them get unionized."

"So Santa is essentially Jeff Bezos?"

"Okay, now you're _definitely_ on the naughty list for that comparison. Santa actually gives stuff away. Bezos doesn't give anything. He's so bad he doesn't even give a fuck."

Bucky laughs then sobers. "I feel guilty."

"Because she's gone?"

"No. Because I wish you were here."

"Oh." It's quiet and surprised. "I… wasn't expecting that answer."

"Me either. I haven't been interested in anyone since she died, and I don't think there's any question that I'm interested in you."

"It's mutual. In case the making out the other night didn't clue you in."

"I had a vague idea."

Steve's quiet for a few moments. "You know it doesn't mean that your feelings for her have changed or that you love her any less, right? It's not a betrayal."

"Yeah. I know. I'm just not sure I remember how to feel this way."

"You don't have to." Steve exhales. "How you feel will be different with me. Nothing's ever going to be the same as what you had with her. It won't be less, but it won't be the same."

"How are you so smart?"

"Oh, I'm not. I'm pulling this all out of my ass."

Bucky laughs. "You're a ridiculous man, Steve Rogers."

"So I've been told."

"I think I'd like very much to date you. Have a relationship with you."

"But Kat."

"But Kat." Bucky breathes out. "I don't want her to get hurt. I mean, I don't want to get hurt either, but she's my number one concern, my number one priority."

"Understandable. I don't think I'd like you nearly as much as I do if it was any other way. But I do want to see you. What if I just hung around as Daddy's friend Steve?"

"What if I really want to kiss you?"

"Keep it in your pants, Barnes."

"Not in yours?"

Steve groans. "We are not having this discussion. You called me and cried for a half hour. I'm going to guess you're a little emotionally compromised right now. How about we table this until a little bit later?"

"Yeah. Okay. I should let you get some sleep."

"Yeah." 

"Hey, Buck?" Steve whispers. "I like that you called me."

Bucky nods even though Steve can't see him. "I like it too."

**

"Oh, fuck," Bucky groans as Steve presses against him, holding Bucky against the wall, his thigh between Bucky's. 

Kat is at her grandparents, and Felicia was actually polite to Bucky when he dropped her off. Kat hadn't wanted to go, but Bucky had insisted, refusing to let her walk away from her relationship with them, no matter how much easier it would make his life.

He'd invited Steve over for pizza and a movie again, and hopefully more making out. Instead, they've been making out since Steve walked in the door, Bucky aggressive and wild in his kisses, a burning under his skin since the previous weekend.

Which is why Bucky's up against a wall and Steve's got him pinned, and he's just looking down at Bucky with dark eyes. Bucky whines as he tries to push forward, both for friction and to kiss Steve again.

"Hey," Steve says quietly, not unaffected given the rough scratch of his voice. "Not a race."

"You kissed me first." Bucky manages to pull away from the wall enough to kiss Steve again. 

Steve kisses him again, pulling away the minute Bucky tries to take control. Bucky whines and struggles in his grip. Steve looks at Bucky for a moment then pulls him forward, wrapping his arms around him, holding Bucky in an almost painfully tight hug. Bucky whines again, but Steve doesn't let him go, keeps him close.

After a moment, the tension seeps out of Bucky, and he's left feeling weak and breathless in Steve's arms. Steve kisses Bucky's forehead. "Better?"

He presses his face to Steve's chest and nods. "Sorry."

"Don't be."

"I'm the one who wanted to go slow, and now I'm jumping you in my own entryway."

"I did kiss you first." Steve strokes Bucky's hair. "So, there's pizza?"

Bucky pulls back and takes a deep breath. "There is pizza. I'll grab it. You pick out a movie. Not Frozen."

"Damn, that was totally what I was going to pick." Steve goes into the living room and Bucky goes into the kitchen. He drinks a couple glasses of water in quick order then grabs plates and balances them on the pizza box to take into the living room. Steve's already on the couch with the DVD remote in his hand. 

"So, what are we watching?" Bucky sets the pizza box down and doesn't say anything when Steve goes to dish it up, given that he shoves a piece in his mouth and holds it there while he puts multiple slices on the plates. "Hungry?"

"All I've had are candy canes and a protein bar. I'm starving." Steve says after he swallows the huge bite he took. "This pizza is amazing. I want to marry this pizza."

"It's Dominos, Steve."

"Oh, well then. No big wedding. We'll just elope."

Bucky picks up a slice, grinning at Steve. "What are we watching?"

"Bond. James Bond." He tries for suave, but it fails when he waggles his eyebrows. "Goldfinger, of course, because it's the best. And also the only one you own."

"Yeah, yeah. I have Netflix. I don't need a DVD collection."

Steve presses play on the remote, and they both settle in to watch the movie. Bucky finishes his three slices of pizza while Steve picks at his fourth one. Reaching out, he takes Steve's plate and puts it on the coffee table.Steve doesn't protest, just turns his head and looks at Bucky.

They look at each other for a long moment and then Steve nods slightly. Bucky sighs in relief before leaning in and kissing Steve. It's nothing like the kisses at the door. These are more like their first kisses - slow and soft and exploring. They're both vocal with soft moans and quiet sighs, and Steve groans as Bucky climbs into his lap and straddles his thighs. His hands go to Bucky's ass and he tugs him closer. 

Bucky grinds down against him and Steve gasps, fingers digging into Bucky's ass. Bucky keeps moving, and soon Steve is matching the roll of Bucky's hips with his own. Bucky reaches behind him and grabs the collar of his shirt, tugging it over his head and tossing it away. Steve doesn't hesitate to get his mouth on Bucky, lips and teeth and tongue on Bucky's neck and shoulder and collar bone, then he brings his hands up and cups Bucky's pectorals, pushing them up as he lowers his head down, flicking his tongue over one of Bucky's nipples.

"Oh god. Oh fuck." Bucky's head falls back and his knees dig into the couch cushions as he thrusts down on Steve, pressing against him and circling his hips for the constant pressure. Steve moans around Bucky's nipple, biting the hard nub on one side before moving to the other. Bucky buries his hand in Steve's hair as a tether to help keep his balance, but also because it's soft in Bucky's grip, silky between his fingers Bucky breaks away from the kiss, breathing hard. He releases Steve’s hair to pluck at his shirt. “Off. Off.”

“You – You’re sure?”

“Yes. Please. We won’t. I’m not. But please.”

Bucky can’t get a full sentence out, but Steve seems to understand him, sitting up straight and pulling his t-shirt off. Bucky groans and leans down, licking at the hollow of Steve’s throat, across his clavicle. Steve arches his back, and Bucky moves down further, wriggling off Steve’s lap and pushing his legs apart so he can crawl between them, running his thumb over Steve’s nipple with his good hand and fixing his mouth over the other, sucking it and tugging it with his teeth.

“J-jesus, Bucky.” Steve’s voice breaks, and he rakes his fingers through Bucky’s hair, not pushing or pulling, though his fingers tug every once in a while. Bucky lets his hand drift down to Steve’s waist, gliding over his ribs and his sides. Steve shifts away from the touch, obviously ticklish, and Bucky stores the information for later as he leans into the strength of his arm and mouths over Steve’s other nipple. 

Goosebumps pebble on Steve’s skin, the damp nipple Bucky had been working on tightening as air meets the skin. Steve shivers and whines, head falling back and body stiffening whenever Bucky’s teeth scrape his nipple, whenever Bucky sucks and bites. Bucky can feel the hardness of Steve’s cock against his abdomen, denim rasping against Bucky’s skin, even though Steve’s jeans are a soft, worn, faded blue.

Bucky catches Steve’s nipple between his teeth as he pulls back, tugging it before he lets it go. Steve’s whole body goes taut, the muscles in his arms corded as he reaches out and catches Bucky’s shoulders. Bucky sways forward regardless, stopped by Steve’s hands. He feels drugged, dazed, and he licks his swollen, tender lips. “’s matter?”

Steve swallows hard, and his grip tightens on Bucky’s shoulders then relaxes. “Was that or come in my jeans.” His breathing is ragged and rough, and Bucky watches Steve’s Adam's apple bob as he swallows hard again. 

Bucky smiles, inordinately proud. He can’t remember the last time he got a guy this worked up, and the last time he had anyone like this was Evelyn. He licks his lips and sits down on his heels. “Oh.”

Steve’s brow furrows slightly, and then his expression clears, even though his eyes are suddenly hard to read, even though they’re still dark with arousal. He nods and grabs his shirt, tugging it on. “I should go.”

“No. No. You shouldn’t.”

Steve reaches out and strokes his thumb over Bucky’s cheek. “Guilt’s written all over your face, Bucky.”

“I’m not guilty. I mean, I don’t feel guilty. I’ve had sex since she died.”

“I don’t think this is just sex. It can be, if that’s what you want, but if that’s all, well, that’s even more reason for me to go.” He moves his legs so Bucky’s no longer between his spread thighs.

“Please don’t go. I don’t want you to go.” Bucky presses his hand to the couch where Steve had just been, and gets to his feet, sitting down again away from Steve. “Please. We just have to go back to slow. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Steve looks at him, his eyes on Bucky’s swollen mouth. “You’re so beautiful.” He meets Bucky’s eyes. “But you’re maybe not ready.”

“I’m never going to be ready.” Bucky doesn’t mean to snap, but the words come out hard and sharp. “I’m never going to not love her or miss her, I’m never going to forget her. But that doesn’t mean I can’t care about someone else, want someone else. I _like_ you. A lot. And I want you. _A lot_. And the last time I was with someone I cared about it was Evelyn, and I didn’t _know_ it was our last time, so, yeah. I’m a little fucked up about wanting you and you wanting me. That doesn’t mean I don’t… That doesn’t mean no.”

Steve takes a deep breath then lets it out slowly. Bucky fully expects him to get up and leave, but instead he settles back on the couch. “Let’s just watch the movie, huh?”

“Okay.” Bucky says it softly, uncertain. One corner of Steve’s mouth quirks up into the semblance of a smile before he lifts his arm. Bucky returns the small smile and scoots closer, leaning against Steve, letting him put his arm around him. Steve’s still partially hard, and Bucky knows he is too, but he focuses on the screen and the heat of Steve next to him.

It’s easy enough to catch the plot of the movie, even though they’ve missed most of it. Easy to ignore it in favor of the way Steve feels against him, the way his fingers stroke Bucky’s hair. That’s what he blames when the next thing he knows, he’s waking up sprawled over Steve. He blinks down at him, and he looks relaxed and content, his illegally long eyelashes fanning over his cheeks, his lips parted slightly. Bucky’s chest feels tight, but he blames it on the yawn he can’t quite suppress.

“Mm.” Steve shifts beneath him and opens his eyes, and he’s mid-stretch when he seems to realize Bucky’s on top of him. “Oh. Hi.”

“Are you that used to waking up with someone sprawled on you that you don’t notice?”

“I have a weighted blanket.” He grins and, even with morning breath, Bucky can’t help but kiss him. Steve’s still smiling in the kiss and when Bucky pulls back. “What time is it?”

“Mm. Almost nine?”

“In the morning? Shit.” Steve pushes Bucky off of him, thankfully toward the back of the couch and not onto the floor. “I have to go. I have to. Shit.” He looks around frantically then spies his shoes and jacket exactly where he took them off. “I have to go.”

“O-kay?”

“I’m supposed to be at the North Pole in about a half hour. Santa photos start at ten. Shit.” He struggles into his coat, then bends to fix his shoes where they bent when he tried to shove his feet into them. Bucky goes into the kitchen and grabs a couple slices of pizza and carries them out to Steve. 

“Breakfast of champions.”

“You’re the best.” He leans in and kisses Bucky hard and swift. “I’ll talk to you later?”

“Yeah.” Bucky bites his lower lip. “I think a candy cane makes a decent toothbrush.”

“You tell your daughter that?” Steve laughs and kisses him again. “Gotta go.”

“Bye.” He waves as Steve jogs to his car, leaning against the door. He waits until Steve drives off before closing it, sighing softly. “Not sure if your house is a bigger mess or if you are, Barnes. Though you’re talking to yourself, so you might be winning.”

**

He’s not expecting anyone, so he’s surprised by the knock at the door that night. Even more surprised to see Steve standing there. “Hey.”

“I know we didn’t talk about me coming over tonight, but I know Kat’s still at her grandparents and I felt like shit for running out of here, especially since last night went a little pear-shaped for a while, so I wanted to at least swing by. Maybe see if you wanted to go out to dinner or something?”

“Like a date?”

“I believe that’s the traditional name for them, yes. I don’t have reservations anywhere, so it won’t be super-fancy, but I think I have enough clout to get us into Olive Garden or something.”

“Wow. I don’t know if I have the proper attire for that. My tux is at the cleaners.”

“Damn. McDonald’s? Taco Bell?”

“You live the high life, Rogers.” Bucky laughs and takes a step back. “Come in. What about we order Chinese?”

“You embarrassed to be seen with me, Barnes?” Steve says it lightly, but Bucky gets the sense that it’s a serious question. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Bucky pokes Steve in the stomach. “Maybe I just want you all to myself.”

“Mm-hm. You just want to take advantage of me, I know how it is.” His voice is still light, but there’s still something underneath it. “Sure, Chinese is great.”

“We don’t go out much. Money. And I don’t like to drive in the rain or the snow. I can, but I’m always extra worried when I have Kat in the car. Staying home and ordering in if we want to get food is sort of our default.” He shakes his head and walks closer, going up on his toes to give Steve a soft kiss. “But, hey, I’m not going to say no to a guy who wants to take me out on the town and wine and dine me.”

“If you’d rather not…”

“No. I’d rather go out with you. I mean, I know we won’t be able to make out as much, because I don’t particularly want to get arrested tonight, but I think I have enough restraint to resist you for a couple hours.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Positive. Let me just put on some pants.” He pinches the fabric of his sweats between two fingers and pulls it away from his body. “Don’t want to be overdressed either, you know.”

“Sounds good. I’ll wait.” Steve winks at him and leans against the wall, crossing his legs at the ankles. Bucky jogs up the stairs to his room and digs out a pair of jeans to change into. When he comes back down Steve has moved to the wall, walking along the row of pictures. He’s stopped at the one of Bucky and Evelyn right after Kat was born. They both look wrecked in the best way, both beaming. Kat was born with a swirl of dark black curls, somewhere between the way Bucky’s grows when he lets it go long, and Evelyn’s tight curls. 

He wasn’t quiet, so he knows Steve’s aware that he’s there, but he doesn’t stop looking at the photo. “Were you guys thinking about having more?”

“We wanted to. Ev was an only child, so she wanted Kat to have siblings. I have siblings, so I knew how good and bad they could be. We wanted at least one more.” Bucky walks up beside him, his hands in his pockets in an imitation of Steve’s stance. “You ever wanted kids?”

“Never thought about it, honestly. I was up front with my mom about being gay as soon as I figured it out at ten. She never asked for grandkids, and I knew even then two guys couldn’t make a baby.” Steve shrugs. “You guys made a beautiful family. Kat got the best of both of you.”

“She’s a lot like her mom. Sweet and stubborn, fierce and delicate. So damn smart it hurts sometimes. I’m afraid she’s going to lose all the mystery and fantasy too soon.”

“Maybe she won’t ever lose it. I mean, her dad still believes in Santa Claus, right?”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Why am I dating you again? Because it sure as hell isn’t your sense of humor.”

“She’s going to be a part of you always. I’m not asking you to give that up. I guess what I was saying last night was that when it’s you and me, I just want it to be you and me. I can’t compete with her. I don’t want to. But even if that were the way it is, I’m never going to win. She’s perfect because all you have left are the memories, and you cling tightest to the good ones, so that’s what you see, what you remember. I’m incredibly, undeniably, horrifically human.” He shrugs again. “And what’s going to stick in your mind is my fuck-ups, because that’s how it goes. So we’ll go to dinner so I can make up for running out on you this morning, and then…” He trails off and turns his head to look at Bucky. 

“And then we’ll plan when we’re going to get together next before you bring me home and kiss me good night and then call me when you get home, and we’ll talk until some ridiculous hour of the morning.” Bucky bumps Steve’s shoulder with his own. “I don’t want you to be perfect, and I don’t want you to be Evelyn. You’d look terrible in her clothes. I just want you to be you. I’m sorry I freaked out a little last night. I just wanted you so much, and you wanted me, and I haven’t had that in such a long time. I mean, I’ve had sex, but it’s been rushed and meaningless and mostly drunk. You were the first time it mattered.”

Steve tugs his hand out of his pocket and curves it against the back of Bucky’s skull, pulling him in and kissing him softly. “Come on. All I’ve had is two pieces of pizza and fifteen candy canes. I’m starved.”

“You really need to work on your diet.”

“What? Candy canes aren’t a major food group? Pretty sure it’s fruits and veggies, meat, candy canes, grain, and… the other stuff.” 

“You’ve been listening to elves and little children too much. Come on, I was promised pasta and never-ending breadsticks. And I expect you to deliver.”

They spend the evening laughing and throwing pieces of breadsticks at each other to see who can catch the most. They split a disgustingly rich dessert that makes Bucky feel like he’s doubled in size.

“I am one giant carb.” He leans back in his seat. “Seriously. I don’t want to see another breadstick for at least a day.”

Steve snickers. “A whole day, huh?”

“If you really knew me, you’d understand how monumental that is.” Bucky stretches out, one foot on the outside of Steve’s leg, one in between them. He crosses his ankles, effectively trapping Steve. “Thanks for dinner. You know how to show a guy a good time.”

“You’re easy to please.”

“I’m a man of simple tastes, simple pleasures.” He wiggles his legs, jiggling Steve’s “You work tomorrow?”

“Yep. Report for duty at two. Night shift Santa.”

“That means you get to sleep in, right? Not a thing Santa gets to do often this time of year.”

“Are you kidding? Now’s the only time I have to do my Christmas shopping. My friend, Sam, has nieces and nephews galore, and it’s up to adopted Uncle Steve to get them the best presents of all and make Sam look bad.”

“So you’re essentially on the naughty list.”

Steve winks. “Don’t tell Santa.”

“I don’t have to. He sees you when you’re sleeping, knows when you’re awake. He’s kind of a perv.” Steve snorts a laugh and Bucky reaches across the table and takes Steve’s hand. “But I hear he’s pretty cute.”

“I mean, if you’re into the whole silver fox thing, I guess.” Steve wrinkles his nose. “And velvet.”

“Hey, velvet has its positives. Soft, feels good on your skin, changes color whenever you rub it a different way. Plus it’s what most little girl holiday dresses are made of, so without it, Kat would have to wear lace, and no one wants to hear her thoughts on that.” He leans in and drops his voice. “She doesn’t like lace. And will tell you. Loudly.”

“No lace for Kat. Right. There goes my Christmas idea of doilies.”

“No,” Bucky shakes his head. “You don’t have to get her anything for Christmas.”

“I know. But I know exactly what she wants.”

“Steve. No buying my daughter’s affections.”

“Of course not. She likes me for free. The presents are a bonus.”

“Steve. I’m serious.” Bucky shakes his head. “Don’t.”

Steve frowns, looking somewhere between hurt and confused. “I was just going to get something little.” His jaw tightens, and Bucky can practically see a wall go up around him. “But I won’t. No problem.”

“If this isn’t going to go anywhere, I don’t want her to get any expectations.”

“I guess I need to adjust mine. I thought we were friends.”

“We are. I just don’t want – “

“It’s fine.” Steve releases Bucky’s hand so he can dig out his wallet. Turning the machine that sits on the end of the table, Steve swipes his card. His jaw is tight and sharp. Bucky pulls his hand back and rakes his fingers through his hair. Steve finishes the transaction and tears off his receipt. “Come on. I’ll take you home.”

Bucky sighs and follows Steve out, not saying anything until they’re on their way back to Bucky’s house. “We are friends.” Steve doesn’t say anything, so Bucky turns slightly in his seat to look at him. “I want to be friends. But I want more too, and if this doesn’t work out between us, I don’t know how long it’s going to be before I can be _just_ friends. And I don’t want Kat to wonder where weird Uncle Steve is.”

“I told you, it’s fine.”

“One time when we were talking you told me how much you hate platitudes, how you hate people who just brush things off like they’re not angry or hurt or upset. How you hate people lying to you.” He raises an eyebrow. “Maybe you should practice what you preach.”

“Fine. Every time I think we take a step forward, we take a step back. I understand you want to protect Kat. I admire that. That’s how it should be. I’m just not sure where I fit in your life then. Am I just some sort of secret until I figure out whether or not I can handle having a kid in my life? Phone calls and every other weekend when Kat’s at her grandparents?”

“You’re the one who gave me your phone number! I didn’t ask for Santa Claus to hit on me!”

“You’re right.” Steve pulls into Bucky’s driveway, and it takes a moment for Bucky to realize where they are, not sure how they got home so quickly. “You didn’t. Goodnight, Buck.”

“Steve.”

“Goodnight, Bucky. Please.”

“Yeah.” He gets out of the car and shuts the door, looking at Steve through the window. “Goodnight.”

**

They don’t talk for three days, which is the longest they’ve gone without since they met. Bucky starts to call multiple times then hangs up, not sure of what he’s supposed to say. Steve wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t quite right either, and Bucky doesn’t know how to put that into words that make sense. On the fourth day, he bites the bullet and calls Natasha.

“I hate that I’m doing this.”

“Well, hello to you too, Bucky. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Promise not to say anything until I tell you I’m done.”

“Oh, this ought to be good.” He can hear her shifting, settling in, and she’s probably grinning like the Cheshire Cat, waiting to hear what kind of mess he’s gotten himself in.

She does as he asks as he goes through the whole saga – from meeting him in the mall until their dinner and the silence that’s followed. He takes a deep breath when he’s done. “Okay. Go ahead and make fun of me.”

“He sounds like a nice guy.”

That’s not what he expects her to say. “He is?”

“Sounds like you really like him.”

“I do.”

“And sounds like he really likes you.”

“I think he does, yeah.” 

“Okay, now it’s your turn to be quiet until I’m done.” She pauses, as if she’s waiting for him to argue, then starts talking. “If you asked any guy if he was going to have a problem with your kid the second you started seeing him, and he said no unequivocally, I’d tell you to run as fast as you can. The truth is no one knows for sure. When you started dating Ev, you didn’t know right away that she was the woman you were going to marry. You had to get to know each other, figure it out. And I know Kat wasn’t in the picture then, obviously, but she is now, and you’re never going to find someone else, even for a little while, if you don’t give people a chance.”

“So you’re telling me – “

“I didn’t say you could talk yet.” She pauses again to see if he’ll keep talking. When he doesn’t, she goes on. “He seems like a nice guy. And you actually did start off being friends, from what you’ve told me. You got to know each other over a lot of phone calls. I mean, every night, Bucky? Are you a teenager?”

“Hey!”

“Hush. And it sounds like he’s a guy who’s good with children. I mean, he’s been Santa for how many years? You don’t do something like that if you don’t like kids. And you said he was good with Kat. To me, that sounds like someone worth giving a chance.” Her voice softens slightly. “I know you don’t want Kat to get hurt. I know you don’t want to get hurt. But life’s about taking those chances. Besides, how many people get to say they’re banging Santa?”

“There’s no banging!”

“Santa’s banging them.”

“No banging!” Bucky laughs. “None. All the banging is reserved for the ten drummers drumming.” She snorts a laugh, and Bucky lets out a deep breath. “Thanks.”

“Of course, I get to meet this guy to give the final approval. You promised Ev.”

“I did not.”

“You did. Maybe you don’t remember because you were out of your mind with grief, but she told you to live your life, and that I had the final say on if you could date someone. Which is why you called me about this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Also because you’re my only friend that I trust with my secrets.”

“Or, alternately, I’m your only friend.” She laughs at his indignant noise. “We still on for tomorrow?”

“Yeah. You can pick me and Kat up and drop me at the mall while you guys have a girl’s night. I’ll call when I’m ready to be picked up.”

“Okay. Just one question.”

“What?” He asks warily.

“You gonna sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want for Christmas.”

“I’m going to tell him I want a new best friend.”

“Night!” She sing-songs as she hangs up. Bucky slumps back against his headboard and thumbs through his contacts. It’s not too late to call Steve. Apologize. Ask for another shot. But he’s not sure if doing it over the phone is the best way.

Of course, ambushing him at work seems even worse. But he has no idea where Steve lives, no idea of the name of his company where he works. Which means either the phone or the mall. He pushes the screen and waits while it dials. He almost hangs up twice before the call goes through, and then he does hang up when it kicks over to Steve’s voice mail.

To be fair, it’s probably no less than Bucky deserves. He’s tempted to actually hang up, but he doesn’t, listening to Steve’s message to the end. “Um, hey, Steve. It’s Bucky. But you know that. I just… I was wondering if we could meet up tomorrow? I know you’re probably working, since we’re so close to Christmas, but after. Or before. I’ve been doing some thinking, and I wanted to talk. Apologize. And talk. And I’m rambling.” He stops and takes a breath. “I miss you. So if you could let me know. I won’t answer if you call, so you don’t have to talk to me. You can just leave a message and let me know. I’m going to the mall tomorrow, so I need to know if I should avoid you or go somewhere else. Just. Please. Let me know?”

He realizes he’s repeating himself, so he hangs up, feeling like an idiot. He slumps down against his pillows then pulls one over his face. Maybe Steve won’t hear his message and won’t realize what a complete dork Bucky is. Or he will and write Bucky off as a lunatic.

Or maybe.

Maybe he’ll call.

**

When he wakes up after a restless night’s sleep, there’s no message on his phone, but there is a text from Steve.

_Working all day today. Santa Bob has the flu. Get lunch about noon if you’ll be there then. If not, dinner at about six. Probably be there before you get this, so if I see you, I’ll see you._

It’s not much, but it’s something. He looks at the time on his phone and sighs. It’s far too early to be awake, but it does give him some time to wrap the few presents he’s gotten for Kat. Christmas is always tough because, even though they always make breakfast together then open presents, what he can give her is paltry in comparison to what her grandparents can afford. And when he brings her home that night, the cookies they make and the hot chocolate with peppermint and marshmallows and whipped cream they have while they're baking pale next to all the gifts she brings home. Still, he does his best to make it special in ways that have nothing to do with money.

As far as gifts go, Natasha always helps Kat pick out some things for Bucky so he has some presents under the tree, and Natasha always has something for him that she sneaks into the house. Bucky thinks it’s when he goes to pick up Kat in the morning, because it’s never there when he leaves and always there when he comes back. Natasha has a key, but he’s not sure why the subterfuge. It may just be habit, since Bucky’s pretty sure she’s the Santa Claus that sprinkles a few more gifts in for Kat.

Instead of wrapping, he sighs and goes downstairs and into the small room off the living room. Bucky’s not sure what it was built for or meant to be, but it fits his elliptical and, since he can’t exactly leave Kat home alone to go running, it’s his regular exercise. He showers after an hour on the machine then goes down to the kitchen to start breakfast. During the school year, breakfast is usually overnight oatmeal or cereal, so when they’re both on break, he likes to go a little fancier – French toast, pancakes, scrambled eggs, and omelets. It’s an inexpensive treat he can give her.

She comes into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes with the back of one hand, clutching a stuffed bear she’s had since she was born in the other. She yawns then goes over to climb on her chair at the table, slumping forward so her chin’s resting next to her plate. “I’m ‘sausted, Daddy.”

“Yeah? How come? Did Peter Pan come and lure you away to Neverland for the night?”

“No,” she says, and Bucky’s sure if she knew what it meant, she’d be rolling her eyes at him. “You made me cleaned my room yesterday.”

“Clean.”

“Clean. No matter what it sausted me.” She yawns again.

Cleaning her room consisted of picking up her crayons and putting them back in the bucket they keep them in, putting away two coloring books, setting three stuffed animals at her tea party table, and putting a pair of shoes in her closet. “I can see how that would be exhausting.” He brings the pan over from the stove and slides three sausages rolled up in pancakes on her plate. “Maybe this will help.”

“Maybe,” she says, sounding doubtful. She pours syrup in a glass bowl on the side of her plate then dunks the first of her servings into it. “What’s our gender?”

“Pardon?”

“What’s our gender? What are we doing today?” Instead of doubtful, she sounds like Bucky is deliberately being dense. “You always talk about our gender.”

“Agenda. Gender is what people mean when they say boys or girls, but that’s not exactly what it is. An agenda is a list of things we’re going to do.”

“Agenda.” She repeats the word and nods, as if that’s cemented it in her mind. Given how dangerously smart he thinks she is, he wouldn’t be surprised. “And?”

“Oh. Well, Auntie Nat’s coming over.”

Kat’s eyes go wide. “Really?”

“Yep. She said you’re going to go shopping and get pedicures and go out to lunch and have ice cream and do other fun stuff.”

“Wow. What’s a petcure?”

“Pedicure is when they paint your toenails.” Bucky’s pretty sure that’s all it involves for a five-year-old, but even if it isn’t, he trusts Nat.

She shifts in her seat and looks down at her feet, wiggling her toes. “But you paint my toes.”

“And I still will, but this is a special thing. Sometimes they paint flowers or put stickers on, and I don’t know how to do that." 

Her eyes are wide again, and she looks at Bucky like he’s magic. “People can do that?”

“Yep.”

“And we can tell Auntie Nat that I want that?”

“You sure can.”

“Wow.” She stuffs another bite of her breakfast into her mouth, and it takes her a while to chew all that she bit off. “What about you?” She asks when she’s finally managed to chew and swallow it all. “Are you coming with us?”

“No. This is a day for the two of you. I’m going to do some other things. Maybe buy a present or two for my favorite girls while they’re off having a good time. Gotta be sneaky with you two.” He winks at her. “Might talk to Santa and see if he can give me any ideas for you.”

“Will you tell him I said hi, Daddy? Or can Auntie Nat and I come in and see him? Auntie Nat hasn’t met him.”

The thought of Nat meeting Steve, especially dressed at Santa, might be Bucky’s version of a nightmare. It’s nothing on the nightmares he actually has, but it might be moving up the list. “That’s up to Auntie Nat. I don’t know what all she has planned for you and when. You might have to be somewhere.”

“Can we call her and ask?”

“Sure. Let me get my phone.” He jogs up to his room and grabs his phone. There aren’t any new messages. He doesn’t expect any, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want them. When he gets downstairs, Kat is almost finished with her breakfast, and there’s syrup all over her face. “Did you miss your mouth?”

“I got tractored.”

It takes Bucky a moment, but then he nods. “Distracted?”

She nods as well, smiling. “You’re so smart, Daddy.”

“I have to be to keep up with you and all the words you’ve learned.” He unlocks his phone and scrolls through his contacts, handing it to her when he gets to Nat’s name. He takes a look at her syrup covered fingers and presses call himself, putting Nat on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Auntie Nat!”

“Hey, sport. You excited for today?”

“Yes! Daddy told me we’re going to have fun and do all sorts of things, and Daddy said he was going to talk to Santa – “

“Is he?”

“So he can find out what I asked for for Christmas, and you haven’t met Santa! And you have to tell him what you want for Christmas, so I was wondering if you’d already seen him without me or if we could go see him when we drop off Daddy?” She sounds so excited, like she might burst, no matter if Nat says yes or no.

“I haven’t seen Santa yet. And today is about both of us having fun, so I think that’s a great idea. What do you think, Bucky?”

“Yeah. Just great.” He doesn’t grit his teeth, but it’s hard not to. “I’ve got to get Miss Kat de-syruped, so we’ll see you in about an hour?”

“Sounds good. See you then.” Bucky disconnects the call and gives Kat a once over. “Bath time.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Bubbles?”

“You have to scrub your face.” This time she scrunches her whole face, and Bucky’s very careful not to laugh. “That’s what happens when you decide to wear your syrup.”

“Fine.” She gets out of her chair and stomps toward the stairs. She pauses at the Christmas tree and Bucky can practically see the wheels spinning and ending up on Santa, because she starts walking like normal and doesn’t give Bucky any more sass. He goes into the bathroom and preps the bath for her, putting in her peppermint scented bubble bath that he’d picked up on sale. She comes in looking upset. “My fingers are sticky, and I can’t bring my clothes.”

“Tell me what you want to wear and I’ll grab them for you. Wash your hands before you take off your pajamas so they don’t get all sticky either.”

She heaves a deep sigh and steps up on the stool they have in front of the sink. She looks at the tap then at Bucky. He does laugh this time, reaching out to start the water, testing it with his fingers to make sure it’s just the right temperature. Once it’s good, he holds out the bottle of soap and presses the top, sending a stream of foam into her palms.

“Want to wear my blue shirt that Grandma gave me.”

“All right. I’ll bring everything right in.” He goes into her room and gets out fresh clothes, including the requested shirt. It’s got lace at the end of the sleeves and around the collar, both that and the material a bold sapphire blue. It’s perfect for a girls’ day out. Bucky knocks on the bathroom door and waits for Kat to okay him coming in before he does. She’s buried up to her nose in bubbles. “You look like you could be Santa Claus with that beard.”

She giggles. “Daaaddy.”

“Here are your clothes. I’ll be right outside when you’re ready to wash your hair.” She insisted, as soon as she turned five, that she was old enough to take a bath by herself, and they came to a compromise that they’d leave the door part way open and Bucky would be outside, only coming in to help her wash her hair. He’s not afraid that she’ll drown, but there’s always a niggling paranoia that he knows stems from being the one solely responsible for her.

He washes her hair with her help then rubs her head with a towel. Once she’s out, dried off, and dressed, he combs his fingers through her hair. She looks at him in the mirror. “You look sad.”

“I just wish I could braid your hair, though I’m not sure I could handle the small ones you like on my own, even with two hands. You’ve got such pretty hair.”

“It’s okay, Daddy. I like braids, but I don’t need them. And Grandma usually takes me to get them done when I want the little ones.”

“Yeah.” He leans in and kisses the top of her head. “Okay. Let’s get you all styled. Auntie Nat’s going to be here in just a little bit.” She picks out the barrettes she wants and then helps Bucky by holding her hair in place while he clips them. When they’re done she looks good, if he does say so himself. “Beautiful.”

“See, Daddy? You do good hair.”

“Thanks, pumpkin.” He kisses the top of her head again. “Okay, let’s go get our shoes on so we’re ready to go when she gets here.”

“I’m so excited for Auntie Nat to meet Santa!”

“I’m sure she’s excited too.” Bucky groans inwardly. Excited isn’t really the word he thinks best to describe it.

**

Nat’s grin from the moment she picks them up all the way to the mall makes Bucky want to cringe. She’s got an evil glint in her eye, and he wants to warn Steve, but he doesn’t know how, given that Santa isn’t just allowed to look at his phone messages between kids. It takes nearly a half hour to park, and when they get inside the place feels like it’s wall-to-wall people. Kat holds one of each of their hands, her grip tight, jerking on Bucky’s arm as she bounces along between him and Nat.

They get to the center of the mall where the big Santa display is, and as soon as she sees it, Kat drops Bucky and Natasha’s hands and starts running. Bucky mutters a curse and takes off after her, leaving apologies in his wake until he catches up with Kat and lifts her up in his arm. “Katrina Louise.”

She looks at Bucky with big eyes, her mouth open in surprise. “D-Daddy?”

“You _do not_ run off. You know better than that. You don’t scare me like that, baby.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I just got cited to see Santa Claus. He wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

“It doesn’t matter. You don’t run off. You stay with me or where I can see you, especially when we’re in a big, crowded place where it’s easy to get lost.” He exhales roughly and rests his forehead against hers. “I don’t want you to get lost. I don’t want to lose you.”

There’s a gentle touch on Bucky’s shoulder and he looks over at Natasha. She rubs her hand along his spine, up and down slowly. It takes a moment for his breathing to regulate, and he shuts his eyes tight. He knows he scared Kat, but his body feels like his blood has been replaced by panic that’s fading far too slowly, even with her safe with him.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I won’t run away again.” He nods and kisses her forehead then sets her on the ground. She grabs hold of his hand tightly and squeezes it. “Do you want me to stay with you instead of go out with Auntie Nat?”

“No. I want you to have a good, fun day. But the same rules apply when you’re out with her as when you’re with me, okay?”

“Okay.” She nods solemnly. “Am I going to be on the naughty list now?”

“I don’t know. Let’s go see Santa and ask, huh?”

Natasha takes Kat’s free hand and they walk around to get in line. It stretches all the way around the structure and then against the wall. Bucky glances at his watch and sighs. “His lunch break’s in an hour. I’m not sure we’re going to make it before then.”

“They haven’t capped the line. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Kat is subdued for a little while, but as they get closer, she gets more excited. They get to the point where they can see Santa’s chair and she starts waving like crazy. Steve’s talking to the set of twins on his lap, focused on them, and eventually Kat lets her arms drop. “Daddy?”

“It’s okay, pumpkin. Santa’s going to be so happy to see you. He just has to spend time with all the other kids too. But you watch, once you’re up there, he’s going to remember your name and everything.”

She looks dubious and crowds closer to Bucky. The line moves slowly, Steve’s deep ringing laugh following them as they work their way around the back of the giant chair he’s sitting in. Natasha walks away, circling around until she can see Steve, and if Bucky hadn’t been nervous before, seeing her scrutinizing Steve definitely makes him nervous now. She just shrugs when she comes back, refusing to give Bucky any kind of hint of what she’s thinking.

By the time they’re at the front of the line, it’s almost time for Steve’s break. They’ve capped the line about five people behind them, and Bucky’s biting his lip nervously. “I’ll wait here for you guys.”

“Okay, Right this way, you’re the next to go into Santa’s workshop.” She puts a hand in Bucky’s back as well as in Natasha’s, and Bucky’s relatively certain if she didn’t look like a harried elf who needed a stiff drink, Natasha would have eviscerated her. As it is, they go through the gate with a not-quite gentle push. Steve’s waving at the last set of kids and he turns toward them. His eyebrows go up, but he drops his gaze quickly from Bucky to Kat.

“Kat! You’ve come to visit Santa again! And who have you brought with you?”

She hurries over and climbs up into Steve’s lap, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. “I brought my daddy. You remember my daddy, don’t you, Santa?”

“Of course, good to see you again, James.”

“And this is my Auntie Nat. She hasn’t seen you yet, Santa, so I wanted to introduce you!” She reaches for Natasha’s hand and pulls her closer until she drops onto Steve’s other knee.

“Okay, Dad. Let’s get behind Santa’s chair and lean over.” Bucky does as he’s told without thinking about it. Natasha’s looking up at Steve with a devious smile on her face and Steve’s laughing his ‘ho ho ho’ and then Bucky’s blinking hard at the sudden flash. “Okay, thank you so much. Santa’s got other kids to see today. Thank you for coming to Santa’s workshop!”

Nat stands and leans in and, whatever she whispers in Steve’s ear makes him blush a dark red beneath his white beard. She waves at him and then walks to the register. Bucky stumbles along behind them, because he’s not sure what else to do, and by the time he gets there, Natasha’s already paid for a set of photos. She cackles and shows him the picture. Kat’s beaming up at Santa, Steve’s grinning at Kat. It takes him a moment to focus on himself and the fact that he’s looking more at Steve than Kat, which is why Natasha’s laughing. He wants to flip her off, but Kat’s there, and she’s holding his hand.

“Okay, well, I guess this is when you two go off to do whatever fun plans Auntie Nat has in store for you, huh?”

“We do need to go.” Natasha grins and Bucky smirks back at her. She’s clearly laughing at him. “Have fun here at the mall, Bucky. If you sit on Santa’s lap, make sure you get the pictures. I’ll pay you back for them.”

“You’d blackmail me, you mean.”

“Such an ugly word.” She leans up and kisses his cheek then holds out her hand to Kat. “All right, sport. Let’s leave Daddy here and you and I can go have some fun.”

“Okay!” She grabs Nat’s hand and starts to skip off, but stops just a short ways away and runs back, hugging Bucky’s legs tight. “Have fun, Daddy! I’ll miss you! I love you!” She hurries back to Nat, grabs her hand and resumes her skipping.

He goes back to the exit of the photo area once Steve’s lunch break is about to start, but he’s stopped short by two elves guiding Steve away. His suit and beard are covered in vomit, a nauseous mixture of green and what had no doubt previously been a candy cane. Steve sees him and nods then gestures at his outfit. Bucky waves him off and turns around. He’s got shopping to do.

**

The mall was crowded and loud and something echoed, sounding like a gunshot. Bucky left quickly, walking five blocks away to a bookstore. He picks up a magazine at random and pays for it before sitting in the very back corner of the café with a coffee. His hands don’t stop shaking until he’s been sitting there for almost an hour. And even after that, he loses track of time.

It’s fully dark by the time he’s aware enough of his surroundings, the panic pushed back and holed up somewhere inside him. He leaves the unread magazine on the table and tosses his nearly full coffee cup in the trash. He pulls out his phone to see what time it is, and curses roughly. It’s past Steve’s dinner break, so Bucky probably isn’t going to get a chance to talk to him.

The mall has cleared out some, though it’s about a week until Christmas, so it’s still crowded. The line for Santa is shorter, and the kids seem more temperamental, likely tired. Bucky leans against the wall not far from the set-up. He can see Steve in a new Santa suit that doesn’t fit him very well, and a bushier beard. From Bucky’s vantage point, he looks just as tired as some of the kids. Bucky texts Nat to say he’ll get an Uber home, so she doesn’t need to worry about picking him up.

The elves close the line down at ten, and it’s nearly eleven by the time all of the kids have filtered through. Bucky pushes off the wall as Steve waves goodbye. He hurries over and falls in step with Steve. “Hey.”

“I’m exhausted and need a shower and about a week’s worth of sleep and I never ever want to see a candy cane again. I’m not sure I’m in the best head space if you want to talk.”

“Okay. No, that’s fine. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your dinner break. I was at a coffee shop having a panic attack, so I wasn’t exactly in the best head space for it then.”

Steve turns his head, and even underneath the bushy white of his eyebrows, Bucky can see his furrowed brow. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just thought I heard a gunshot while I was shopping, and it freaked me out. But I got out of here and walked and found a place to sit down and lose my shit.”

“Jesus.”

“I know the mall’s closing though. Is there a spot I can wait for an Uber?”

“You don’t have your car?”

“I was supposed to get a ride home from Nat, but it got pretty late, and I don’t want her to have to drag Kat out of the house, so I’m going to just call for one.”

“I can take you home. C’mon.”

“Do you need to change?”

“I came straight here, and I planned on going straight home, so what you see is what you get. Jolly Old St. Nick’s your ride. Sorry the sleigh is in the shop.”

“I was really looking forward to reindeer.”

“They’re in the shop too.” Steve leads them to an employees only hallway and out an exit that spills into a garbage dumpster with a mid-sized Honda parked next to it. “They let me park back here so I don’t get swamped in the parking lot.” Steve opens his jacket and unclips a set of keys from his belt. He’s wearing a white bib that serves as Santa’s shirt, and beneath that a plain gray t-shirt that’s soaked with sweat.

Bucky climbs in the car and they’re quiet for a while. Steve’s shoulders are slumped, and he yawns a couple of times. Bucky turns so he can reach over and rest his hand lightly on Steve’s thigh. “I’m scared. Of getting hurt. Of Kat getting hurt. It’s hard not to be afraid.”

Steve nods, but doesn’t say anything. Bucky takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly before he starts talking again.

“Nat told me I was stupid to expect you to know if you’d be okay with dating a guy with a kid, that you’d be okay with having a relationship that Kat was part of. Obviously you don’t know. Everyone’s different. Every kid is different. She said if you’d told me you were fine with it right away, you were either a liar or a weirdo. Well, she didn’t say that, but it was heavily implied.”

Steve’s mouth quirks. “Seems smart.”

“Yeah, don’t say that to her. Please. She’s already kind of insufferable about stuff like that.” His thumb rubs a slow sweep along the softness of Steve’s suit. “I really like you.”

“I like you too.”

“And if you can forgive me for being a complete asshole, I’d like to see you again.”

“You were an asshole.”

“I’m sorry. You’ve been nothing but great with Kat and with me, and I took my own fears and insecurities out on you. But I’d really like a second chance.”

“That’s what’s on your Christmas wish list?”

“Well, I mean, amongst other things. Peace. Goodwill. The whole shebang, really.”

Steve takes his right hand off the wheel and places it on top of Bucky’s on his thigh, his fingertips brushing against Bucky’s palm as he squeezes. “Greedy.”

“If I had to pick just one of those though, you’d be at the top of the list. If that helps.”

“A little bit.” Steve pulls up to the curb in front of Bucky’s house. “Here you go. Home safe and sound and you don’t even have to tip me.”

“I’m not going to even make a joke about just the tip.”

“Or that I gave you a ride?”

“Low-hanging fruit, Steve.” He frees his hand from Steve’s and unfastens his seatbelt. “I’ll call you? Or you could call? Tomorrow maybe?”

“I have tomorrow off. Santa union says I worked too many hours today. Maybe I can take you and Kat out to lunch?”

“That… Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Won’t be early, because I’m going to go home and crash for several hours. As many as I can manage.”

“Okay. Well. Thanks. For listening. And accepting my apology and… Giving me another chance, I guess.” He nods and then tilts his head toward the house. “I should go.”

“Yeah.” Steve nods as well then shakes his head. Bucky’s about to ask what’s wrong when Steve reaches out and cups Bucky’s face with one hand, sliding his thumb over Bucky’s lip before he leans in and kisses him. It’s slow and soft and sweet, but Bucky coughs then pulls away fairly quickly. “What?”

“Oh my god. That beard is awful.” He scrubs at his face then coughs again, clapping his hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. “I kissed Santa Claus. Oh, Jesus. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more dirty in my life. And I’ve lived through sand storms in the Iraqi desert.”

Steve presses his lips together, fighting a smile. After a moment, his expression hardens and he leans in close. Bucky can feel Steve’s breath on his lips, smell the hint of peppermint. “You want dirty?”

Steve kisses him again, and this time it’s nothing like the last one. Steve bites Bucky’s lower lip then licks into his mouth when Bucky’s lips part. He buries a hand in Bucky’s hair and uses it to guide him, turning Bucky just right so they fit together like interlocking pieces. Bucky arches into Steve, hand grasping his jacket as he sways forward. Bucky grabs the end of the Santa beard and tugs it downward, pulling away from Steve just enough to get it off of his face, so that the rough-soft brush of hair is Steve’s natural beard.

Steve curls the fingers of his other hand through one of Bucky’s belt loops, knuckles pressing hard into Bucky’s skin. Bucky has to eventually pull back, sucking in a lungful of air. Steve’s breathing is hard and rough, and Bucky’s torn between shaking apart and crawling into Steve’s lap. Though crawling into Steve’s lap would likely _cause_ him to shake apart, so it might not be an either/or situation.

“I should…you’re tired.”

“I could go to bed.”

Bucky feels heat flare along his nerve endings, because there’s nothing about sleep in Steve’s tone. The dark depth of his voice is promising something else entirely. “I should… Nat. Waiting. For me.” Bucky kisses Steve several times in quick succession, though the kisses get longer and deeper as they go on. Steve’s hands settle on Bucky’s shoulders and he blinks hazily and opens his eyes as he realizes Steve’s easing Bucky back into his seat.

“If you’re going to go, you should probably go.” Bucky shivers because in the quiet cocoon of the car, Steve’s words are both threat and promise, and Bucky’s tempted to see how far he can push it. “Your girls are waiting.”

“Right. Right.” Bucky nods and manages to get his door open, slipping out of the car into the cold. He opens the back seat to get out the gifts he’d bought. Steve turns his head to look at Bucky over his shoulder, and Bucky leans in further to kiss Steve again. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Goodnight.”

Bucky means to wait on the sidewalk until Steve drives off, but Steve points at the house, then sits there until Bucky gets inside. He closes and locks the door behind him then turns around to see Natasha glaring at him. He sets his bags down then shucks off his coat and shoes, trying and failing to ignore her glare. “I told you I’d get an Uber home.”

“Your daughter is sobbing her eyes out upstairs.”

“Why?”

“She won’t tell me, but she’s been crying for a solid fifteen minutes and does not want to be soothed. So you’re up, Dad.”

Bucky takes a deep breath then heads for the stairs. Kat’s door is shut, which explains why he didn’t hear her when he first came in. When he opens the door, she looks up from her pillow and sobs roughly then buries her face again. Bucky hurries over to her bed and sits down on the edge, reaching out to brush her shoulder. “Hey. Hey, what’s the matter?”

“I-I’m no-not going to get a-a-an-any presents!” Her voice breaks and fresh tears overflow, racing over her flushed cheeks.

“Kat. Hey, c’mon. Why do you say that?”

“B-because! Because you were kissing him!”

Natasha’s eyes widen and Bucky shrugs. “You mean just now? You saw me?” Kat nods and Bucky squeezes her shoulder. “You know it’s okay for Daddy to kiss another man, right?”

“Yes,” she says through another burst of tears. “But what about Mrs. Claus?”

“What?” Bucky and Nat both say at the same time.

“She’s going to be so mad at Santa and not let him bring me any toys!”

“Kat, I don’t…”

“Is she dead like Mommy? Did he leave her like Missy’s daddy left her mommy? Does Mrs. Claus know? Is she like Santa? Does she _know_?” The words devolve into broken sobs and Nat looks at Bucky for explanation. He’s busy trying to wrap his head around the questions, when he suddenly realizes exactly what Kat saw.

“You saw me kiss Santa Claus.”

She nods, which just makes more tears spill down her face. “It wasn’t funny like in the song. At all!”

Natasha’s concern seems to have melted away in the face of amusement. “Are you sure it was Santa you saw, sport?”

“He w-was in hi-his suit and he h-had a white beard, and he was…” Her voice catches. “It was _Santa_.”

Bucky rubs his hand over his face, and he can still feel the tenderness left behind by Steve’s beard. He winces then clears his throat. “C’mere, pumpkin.” He takes her arm and guides her around into his lap. He kisses her forehead, then rests his head against hers. “The most important thing is that you know that I wasn’t kissing Santa Claus.”

“Bu-but I _saw_.”

“You saw me kissing someone.” He nods. “You remember Mr. Steve?”

She looks up at him, a small frown furrowing her brow. “From the mall?”

“Yeah. You remember him?”

“Yes. I liked him. He was nice and scared of Christmas ghost in Muppets.”

“That’s right. That’s him. I’ve been spending some time with him when you’re at your grandma and grandpa’s, getting to know him, and I like him too. And that’s who I was kissing in the car. And you remember he has a beard, right? And he has a red coat. So maybe, because of how dark it is and how there was just a streetlight and because it’s so close to Christmas, you maybe thought it was Santa?”

She sniffles. “May-maybe?”

“I know Santa loves Mrs. Claus very much.”

“But he k-kisses p-people in the song a-all the time.”

“That’s a song. It’s pretend. Remember that movie you and Auntie Nat watched?”

“The one where the real Santa was sick?”

“That’s the one. And in that one, every daddy or mommy had to help Santa out so all the kids would get presents. And remember how that one daddy was under the mistletoe putting out the presents and the mommy came into the room and they kissed?” Bucky hadn’t appreciated the hundreds of times Kat had told him this story, which was a cross between the song and the movie ‘The Parent Trap’, but now he doesn’t think he’s ever been more grateful to Hallmark.

“He was dressed like Santa.”

“That’s right.”

“So Santa – the real Santa. He wasn’t kissing her?”

“Nope. The real Santa was home with Mrs. Claus, probably having some chicken soup like you do when you don’t feel good.” He strokes her hair. “And I was kissing Mr. Steve.”

“Do you love him?”

“We’re just starting to get to know each other, but I like him a lot already.”

She looks up at him, brown eyes still shiny with tears. “But you love Mommy still, right?”

“I’m always going to love your mommy. No matter what. Even if I got married to a million different people, I’d still love your mommy.”

“You can’t marry a million people, Daddy. There aren’t that many!” She giggles, and that’s the sound Bucky needs to hear.

“Even if I could marry that many then.” He kisses the top of her head. “And I’m always going to love you too. So much my heart could burst from it.”

She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t think it should do that.”

“Probably not. Now, come on. In bed and under the covers and I’ll read you a story.”

“Can Auntie Nat help?”

Bucky looks over at Nat who smiles and goes to the bookshelf. “I absolutely can. How about _Beauty and the Beast_?”

“Daddy is a good beast.”

Bucky looks over at Nat. “I think that’s a compliment?”

“Eh. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

**

“Daddy! Daddy!” Bucky winces as Kat scrambles onto his bed and starts bouncing. “Daddy Daddy Daddy!”

“Kat,” Bucky groans. “We’ve talked about this.”

“But Daddy, it’s snowing! Christmas snowing!”

Bucky groans again and sits up, swinging his legs out of the bed and going to the window. He pulls his blinds to the side, and it’s definitely snowing. Snowing as in a good two feet on the ground and fat flakes still coming down.

“See? See, Daddy?” Kat comes over to him and grabs the window sill, bouncing up and down. “Can we make a snowman and snow angels and have a snowball fight and hot cocoa and does this mean it’s time to open presents?”

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, and no.” Bucky rubs his eyes and heads to the bathroom. “But first breakfast.”

“That’s not the kitchen, Daddy!”

“Well, Daddy has to go potty, so he’ll meet you downstairs.”

Kat bounces the entire way out of the room, and Bucky goes into the bathroom, peeing, washing his hands, scrubbing his face with water, and brushing his teeth. When he gets downstairs, Kat has already pulled one of the kitchen chairs to the counter, and has pulled down the box of pancake batter.

“Kat.”

She slides down until she’s sitting on the chair, since she knows she’s not supposed to be standing on it. “I was helping!”

“Help by setting the table.” He keeps the plates, bowls, and cups down low enough that she can reach them so she can help, and they’ve made setting the table her job. Bucky starts the pancakes. His mother would be offended by the fact that he uses a mix, but it’s probably the least offensive thing about him in his family’s eyes, but it’s the one he actually feels somewhat guilty for. He keeps an eye on Kat as she carefully pours milk into her glass. “So, what do you want to do first? Snow angels or snowman?”

“Snowball fight!”

“We’ll get cold and wet doing that, so we’ll save it for right before we come inside.”

“Snow angels.”

“Okay. After breakfast we’ll get dressed and go outside.” He sets the platter of pancakes on the table and lets her stab as many of them as she wants. He makes them small so she feels like she gets a lot of pancakes, even though it’s not actually that much. He has to remind her to slow down a couple of times, but he’s finished by the time she is.

“Do I have to bath now?”

“We’ll take a bath after we play in the snow, then we’ll put our pajamas back on and have cocoa. Maybe watch a movie. We’ll have a lazy day. But you do need to wash your face and brush your teeth.”

“Okay, Daddy!” She hops out of her chair and runs off, but comes back quickly and tugs on Bucky’s arm until he leans down and she can place a loud, smacking kiss against his cheek. It’s syrup-y sugar sweet smelling, as well as messy, but it makes Bucky smile all the same. She takes off again and he hears the water running in the bathroom not much later. He rinses off the dishes and sticks them in the dishwasher then heads upstairs himself so he can get dressed as well.

They make snow angels, and Kat comes up with wild theories as to how a one-armed angel could fly, then build a family of snowmen, and finally toss snowballs at each other until they’re both red faced from cold and laughing. Kat hits him square in the chest and he lets himself flop back into the snow and she runs over and jumps on him. He grabs a handful of snow and plops it on top of her hood. She giggles and shakes her head, snow flying around and onto him.

“Okay, pumpkin, my pants are wet and I’m craving cocoa. What do you say we go inside?”

“That means I have to take a bath.”

“But you get to put your pajamas back on and snuggle under your blanket and we’ll watch movies. What do you want to watch?”

“Eye out!”

Bucky can’t quite regret the time she woke up and climbed on the couch next to him while he was watching _A Christmas Story_ , because it’s a wonderful memory, but he also isn’t sure she’s really quite old enough for the movie. Most of it’s probably over her head, but she normally giggles through it, even the non-funny parts, pretending like she knows what’s going on. The laughter is worth it.

“Okay. Let’s go get cleaned up and in our PJs. I’ll make cocoa then we’ll sit on the couch and be lazy all day.”

“Yay!” She races into the house, nearly tripping over Bucky in her haste. He gets to his feet so he can help her out of her snowsuit and snow boots. She’s digging through her drawer for the perfect pair of pajamas while Bucky runs the bath, then they go through their routine. He leaves her to get dressed so he can take his own shower and, more importantly, get out of his wet jeans. The hot water feels good, but he doesn’t let himself dwell in it because he knows if Kat gets impatient, she’ll be at the door, knocking and asking what’s taking Bucky so long.

They settle in, all pajama-clad and cocoa warm, and Bucky starts the movie. They’re about halfway through when his phone pings with a new message.

_“Still up for lunch?”_

In the wake of Kat’s excitement about the snow, Bucky had forgotten Steve’s invitation. He cringes inwardly, then responds. _Kat & I are having a pajama snow day. Plus I’m not comfortable driving in snow like this.”_

_“Well, I do have pajamas and there’s a drive-thru on the way to your house. I’d be happy to pick up some burgers and fries if you still want to get together. If not, that’s perfectly okay.”_

“Hey, Kat? Would you be okay if Mr. Steve came over?”

“Are you going to do kissing?”

“No. He said he could bring lunch and watch movies with us. Maybe we could bake some cookies.” Her eyes light up at the word cookies, and Bucky manages to bite back his smile.

“I guess it would be okay. Wait. What kind of cookies?”

“What kind do you want?”

“Chocolate chip. And sugar cookies.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“What’s that mean?”

“That means chocolate chip and sugar cookies.” She grins and snuggles up under her blanket, leaning against Bucky. He kisses the top of her head then texts Steve the go ahead and gets a smiling emoji, a Santa emoji, and a hamburger emoji in return.

Nearly an hour later, halfway through Rudolph, there’s a knock on the door. Bucky gets up to answer it, and Steve’s standing there in snow boots and jeans, and a puffy winter coat. He’s got a couple of bags in his hands and the tip of his nose is bright red. Bucky shivers and steps back, just a few moments in the doorway and he’s already cold. There’s at least another six inchest on the ground.

“I would have turned around halfway here.”

“That’s why I brought Myrtle.”

“Myrtle?” Bucky looks outside and doesn’t see anyone.

“My truck.” Steve tilts his head, and Bucky notices the forest green monstrosity in his driveway. “You think I could come in?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” He steps back and Steve comes in, stripping out of his coat and boots in the entryway. Underneath his jacket, Steve’s got a stretched-out, practically see-through t-shirt on, clearly well-loved and well-worn. He’s also got a thick blue cardigan that matches his eyes. Bucky hasn’t realized Steve’s got a backpack until he opens it, tugging out a pair of sweats and some slippers.

“Here’s lunch.” Steve hands the bags over to Bucky. “I’m going to go get into pajamas, okay?”

“Yeah. I’ll get lunch ready.” He glances back over his shoulder. Kat’s staring at the TV, singing the Rudolph song with her own lyrics. Turning back, he leans in, brushing a kiss over Steve’s lips. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He grins and moves behind Bucky, going into the downstairs bathroom. When he comes out, Bucky’s got paper plates on the coffee table, and Kat’s sitting on the floor and shoving French fries in her mouth. Steve’s wearing gray and blue plaid pajama pants and dark brown slippers. Kat doesn’t even register his presence until Rudolph ends, and then she leans forward so she can see around Bucky.

“Hi, Mr. Steve! I thought you were Santa Claus, but you were just kissing my daddy.”

Steve nearly chokes on a french fry, and Bucky has to smack him on the back a couple of times until he stops coughing. “I. Okay.”

“I told her that with your red jacket and beard, with just the street light, you must have just looked like Santa.”

“Yeah. Absolutely. I get that a lot.” He clears his throat. “Is it okay with you that I kissed your daddy?”

“Daddy kisses boys and girls, so it’s okay.” She shrugs. “He always loves my mommy, and he always loves me best.”

“Your daddy’s told me a lot of times how much he loves you and how you’re the most important person in the world to him.”

Kat looks at Steve with big eyes and then suddenly smiles at him. “Daddy said we could make cookies. Do you like cookies?”

“I think I like cookies and milk just as much as Santa does.” Bucky jabs an elbow into Steve’s side and Steve bumps his shoulder against Bucky’s. “What kind of cookies are we making?”

“Chocolate chip and sugar cookies. I get to frost them.”

“You’re making _both_? Wow. Santa is going to be _so_ impressed.”

Bucky looks from Kat’s huge smile to Steve’s and realizes he is in a world of trouble. Kat gets off the floor and climbs onto Bucky’s lap, facing Steve. “What’s your favorite cookie?”

“Oh, gosh. I like them all. Chocolate chip, peanut butter, oatmeal raisin, snickerdoodles – “

“I like them because they sound funny!”

“It’s a great name for a cookie.” Steve leans in. “What’s your favorite?”

She leans in, looking both ways, then leans in even further like she has a secret. “Sugar cookies. With lots of frosting. And sprinkles.”

“I bet you are the best froster.”

“I am! And sprinkler!” She hops off Bucky’s lap. She grabs Bucky’s hand and Steve’s. “We have to make cookies now!”

Kat eats more chocolate chips than she puts in the cookies, though Bucky makes sure to pour some more in. Steve does too, so instead of cookies with hardly any chocolate chips, they have more chocolate chips than cookie. Bucky doesn’t complain though, since Santa always has a sweet tooth when he’s putting out presents.

She gets bored once the cookies start baking and goes back into the living room. The strains of the _Frozen_ soundtrack filter into the kitchen and Bucky groans under his breath. “The one downside of having kids is that you become overly familiar with Disney.”

“I’m a huge Disney nut, so I only have myself to blame.”

“Great.” Bucky reaches out and brushes flour off of Steve’s nose. “You’re a mess, Rogers.”

“No one’s questioning that.” He takes Bucky’s hand and pulls him closer. He’s leaning against the counter, so Bucky slots easily between his spread legs. He leans in and rests his head on Steve’s shoulder. Steve rests his hands on Bucky’s hips, holding them lightly. “I should probably head out.”

“Haven’t even had a cookie.”

“I had cookie dough.”

“Yes, and if my daughter gets salmonella, I know exactly who to blame.”

“Her dad who was eating dough off the spoon?”

“Never! How dare you malign me in such a way.” Bucky straightens slightly, chin tilted so he’s looking at Steve. Steve’s smiling and Bucky can’t help but smile in return. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Steve leans in and nuzzles Bucky’s nose with his own. Their mouths are close together, and Bucky can feel Steve’s breath on his lips, can practically taste the kiss hovering between them. “You gonna start singing _Baby, It’s Cold Outside_?”

Bucky shakes his head slightly, barely moving before he kisses Steve. Steve hums into his mouth, and Bucky closes his eyes, reveling in the grainy sugar taste of cookie dough on Steve’s tongue. Bucky slides his arm around Steve, slipping it between his t-shirt and cardigan. He splays his hand over the strong expanse of Steve’s back, feeling his muscles move as Steve mimics Bucky, arms around him, though one of Steve’s slips under Bucky’s t-shirt, palm like a brand on Bucky’s skin.

Bucky’s not sure how long they kiss – eight to ten minutes, if he goes by the cookies – but he pulls away when the oven buzzer finally catches his attention. He feels kiss-drunk and Steve’s eyes are half-closed and dark. “Cookies.”

“I should go.”

Bucky whines softly, but pulls away to turn off the oven timer and pull the cookie sheet out of the oven. He sees Steve walk to the door to the backyard out of the corner of his eye, looking over when Steve curses softly. Bucky sets the sheet down and walks over to stand next to him. It’s apparently been snowing steadily the entire time Steve’s been there, because it’s now up to roughly five feet of snow.

“Or you could stay here. We have a guest room. And if you’re going to brave this, I’d rather you did it in the daylight.”

“It’s going to be worse in the morning.”

“When’s the next time you have to be at the North Pole?”

“I’ve got tomorrow off from there, but I do have a job due for work.”

Bucky reaches out, fingers playing with the hem of Steve’s shirt. “Stay.”

Steve leans in and kisses him, pulling Bucky close. “Yeah,” he whispers against Bucky’s lips. “I’ll stay.”

Bucky smiles in the kiss, flicking his tongue against Steve’s upper lip until he opens his mouth, letting Bucky deepen it. Bucky steps closer, closing the slight distance between them. Steve’s hand finds its way under Bucky’s shirt again and he holds him firm against him. Bucky wraps one of his legs around Steve’s so that he’s pressed into Steve’s thigh. He does his best not to rock against the pressure, but it’s hard not to grind down against him.

“Daddy! Is it time to frost the cookies?”

Bucky stumbles back, and Steve catches him by the wrist so he doesn’t fall back and land on his ass. “Not – “ He has to clear his throat to get his voice back to normal. “Not quite yet.”

“When?”

“Soon. They’re still cooling.” He goes back to the counter and uses the spatula to work the cookies off the sheet and onto the cooling rack. Steve grabs the scoop from the bowl and plops mostly round balls of cookie dough onto the sheet before he takes it from Bucky and slides it in the oven again, setting the timer as soon as the door’s closed. Bucky doesn’t move from the counter, but Steve goes to the table and sits down, arranging all the frosting and candy that Bucky has out for decoration. He takes a couple Red Hots and sticks them in his mouth. “So,” Bucky finally says. “There are some downsides when you have a kid.”

“She’s a great kid. Thanks. For letting me hang out with you guys today.”

“She likes you. So does her dad.” Bucky looks down at the floor then back up at Steve. “I never asked what you were doing for Christmas. I mean, there’ll be plenty of cookies if you want to take them to someone’s house or party or something.”

“Christmas Eve I usually do the early Santa shift at the mall. After that it’s a phone call with my best friend, Sam, usually take-out, a couple of beers, and a movie. Christmas Day is usually staying in and watching football.” He shrugs. “Sam spends Christmas in Louisiana, so we can’t exactly hang out. And it was just me and my mom growing up. So, I. I mean, Christmas is really about playing Santa for the little kids for me, otherwise it’s just a day.”

“You’re the last person it should be just a day for.”

“I have Christmas from Thanksgiving until Christmas Eve.”

“You should come over.” Bucky says it without thinking, but as soon as he does, he knows it’s exactly what he wants. “My friends Natasha and Clint come over that night and we have hot apple cider or cocoa and we listen to music and exchange a few presents. Christmas Day we’ll open a few more presents and our stockings, and then Kat will go see her grandparents, so we can just hang out.”

“Buck, a few days ago you didn’t want me to hang out with your kid, and now you’re inviting me to Christmas?”

“I like you, Steve Rogers. A lot. That’s why you scared me so much. And I want you there for Christmas. Just as friends if that’s what you want, but I think maybe what we have is more than that. Or could be. So come to Christmas.”

“Buck – “

“Doesn’t Santa deserve a Merry Christmas too?”

“Ugh. You’re making us sound like a Hallmark movie.”

Bucky laughs as the oven buzzer goes off. He turns the dial and pulls out the last batch of cookies, setting them on the stove. “Does that mean yes?”

“Will you take no for an answer?”

“Absolutely not.” He grins widely. “Kat! It’s time to decorate the cookies!”

**

Once the cookies are done, they go out in the snow one more time. Steve shovels Bucky's walkway and driveway, ignoring Bucky's protests. He tells Bucky to play with Kat, and Kat tells them that's the best idea ever. She and Bucky build another snowman out of the shoveled snow that Steve packs down at the edges so the odds of Kat falling too deeply are minimized. 

That doesn't keep her from diving into the snow, sending it tumbling down all over her. Bucky digs her out time and again and then Steve's there to help, though he ends up lifting Kat up and tossing her lightly back into it, and she squeals in delight. 

Before too long though, they're all shivering, so they go inside. Bucky digs out some sweats and a t-shirt for Steve before ushering him into the en suite bathroom for a shower. Bucky strips down and pulls on something warm then gets Kat in the bath and back into pajamas. Steve comes out dressed in Bucky's clothes, and Bucky has to swallow hard to keep the choked off noise resulting from that sight embarrassing him too much.

Kat and Steve go back to the kitchen to taste test one of each cookie and have some hot cocoa while Bucky showers and gets redressed in the clothes he'd put on when they came inside. He goes downstairs and Steve and Kat are settled in front of the TV watching _How the Grinch Stole Christmas_. Kat has a chocolate mustache and she's leaning into Steve, loose and relaxed against him. 

Bucky sits in the chair next to the couch, tugging the blanket draped over the back onto his lap and then covering up with it. By the time the show ends, Kat's crawled into Steve's lap and fallen asleep. Bucky has to swallow hard at the sight. Steve looks down at her and smiles softly, then stands up with her in his arms. 

Bucky gets up and heads for the stairs, leading Steve to Kat's bedroom. Steve settles her on the bed, and Bucky tucks her in, kissing her forehead. Steve squeezes her hand. "I had a good time today, Miss Kat. Thank you for sharing it with me."

Bucky takes Steve's hand and pulls him out of the room, half-shutting the door behind them. Bucky doesn't hesitate, pushing Steve against the wall and kissing him, arching his body so he's pressed hard against him. It takes a long time before he breaks the kiss and pulls back, looking up at Steve, probably with stars in his eyes.

"Hey there," Steve whispers.

"Hi. I think I'm in love with you." Steve brushes his thumb over Bucky's lower lip, and Bucky's not sure if he's trying to silence him or if he's just like Bucky and has to touch him. "I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but we've talked so much, and I feel like I know you, and Kat trusts you and I know you're probably thinking that you're the first person I've even pondered having a relationship with since Evelyn because I've been thinking it too for a while and wondering, but I think I do and I am, and - "

Steve pulls lightly and Bucky's lower lip, opening his mouth before fitting his own over it in a slow, warm kiss. When he pulls back, he's still leaning casually against the wall and he's settled his hands on Bucky's hips. "Christmas is a crazy time of year with heightened emotions and the feeling of magic in the air, not to mention Hallmark movies and commercials designed to turn your feelings up to ten." Steve kisses him again and continues before Bucky can interrupt. "I like you a hell of a lot, Bucky Barnes. And, if you'll let me, I'm determined to kiss for a long time, and eventually I want to take you to bed and take you apart."

Bucky can't help but shiver at that, going up on his toes to kiss Steve again. It's just a press of lips, but Steve licks at Bucky's lower lip and then Bucky's pressed hard against him, and Steve's against the wall. Bucky wraps his arm around Steve's shoulders, and Steve's arms have slipped around Bucky's back to keep them pressed together. Bucky pulls back eventually, burying his head in the crook of Steve's shoulder, his mouth close to Steve's throat. Steve shivers as Bucky's breath fans over the skin there.

"I'm not saying you don't know your feelings, but I am saying that, as much as I love Christmas, declarations of love around this time of year make me a little nervous. So maybe we can wait until all of this dies down for that kind of confession."

"Is this your way of saying you're bad in bed, and I should find that out before I make some sort of lifelong commitment?" Bucky's smiling as he says it, and Steve's soft huff of a laugh lets him know it was the right thing to say. He's glad Steve didn't discount his feelings, that he didn't even try to tell Bucky that Bucky didn't know his own mind and heart. And he knows Steve's probably right. Steve was good with Kat and Kat obviously likes him, and her approval might be swaying Bucky's opinion. He doesn't think it is, but he gets Steve's sense of caution. "Because you're absolutely right about that."

"Asshole," Steve whispers as he bends his head, both of them breathing each other in. "I am kind of uncomfortable making out right outside your daughter's door though."

"We could go downstairs. Or… Or to my room?" He doesn't mean to make it a question, but the sudden thought of bringing someone into the bedroom he shared with Evelyn, even though he knows Evelyn would want him to move on and be happy in this situation, makes him a little nervous. 

"Downstairs is good."

Bucky pulls away, but he catches Steve's hand as he does, so there's still a point of contact between them. "Yeah."

"I mean, I do some of my best work on a couch."

"Okay, now I am scared about how good you are in bed."

They're halfway down the stairs when Steve pulls Bucky to a halt and wraps his arms around him, his voice deep and rough in Bucky's ear. "Trust me, you don't have to worry about that. I'm good, but with the right partner? It's going to be amazing."

**

Christmas eve day starts with the sun reflecting blindingly off the snow, and Bucky can’t help wincing when he looks out the window. He checks on Kat and she’s still asleep. Normally he’d do his morning run, but while he’s got the chance, he breaks out the wrapping paper and tape. He wraps her gifts first, tucking them back on the top shelf of his closet once he’s done. There are four boxes and two bags, and he feels the familiar sinking feeling in his stomach, because he knows it’s nothing compared to what she’ll get the following day.

Still, he made sure she gave a list to her grandparents that was different than the one she gave him to mail to Santa Claus, thankfully before they met Steve, so he has some clue of what she wants the most. He also made sure that neither list contained ‘puppy’ anywhere on them, no matter how disappointed she was.

He’s wrapping Nat’s gift when there’s a timid knock on his door and then Kat barrels in. “Merry Christmas, Daddy!”

“Merry Christmas, pumpkin.” He grabs her and sweeps her up into a hug. She immediately wraps her arms around his neck to stabilize herself. He presses a loud, smacking kiss to her cheek to make her giggle, rubbing his face against hers. His scruff makes her giggle harder, and she wiggles until he eases her to the ground. She runs away to the other side of the bed.

“Tickles!”

“Does it? I’m _so_ sorry. I had no idea.”

“You _know_!” She’s still giggling as she climbs onto his bed. Normally she’d bounce, but she’s careful with the wrapping paper spread out on it. “Can I help you?”

“Sure can.” He tells her how to fold the paper and tape it, and she’s extra precise. He lets her write Nat’s name on the tag and put a bow on it, then he sets it aside. He grabs Clint’s present and they start all over again. Wrapping her presents always takes him a while with one hand, but he refuses to let Nat do it, and he knows Kat likes tearing the paper more than she likes bags. He’s glad to have her help, even if the corners aren’t sharp. Once Clint’s is done, she looks around, failing at nonchalance. “Nice try, but your presents from me are hidden, and Santa won’t come until you’re asleep tonight.”

She slides her lower lip out into a pout, but then breaks into a smile. “Can we do my presents for Grandma and Grandpa, Auntie Nat and Uncle Clint?”

“Absolutely. You go get them, and I’ll get the frames ready.” She’d drawn pictures of each of them, and Bucky’s sure there’s one under the tree for him, likely much more fancy in wrapping, since Nat likely helped. Or less fancy because Kat did it all herself. Bucky works the backs off the frames, and Kat comes back with a fistful of papers and slips them in against the glass. Bucky gets them sealed up, then looks back up at Kat curiously. She’s clutching another sheet of paper, even though they’ve done all three pictures. “What’s that one?”

She shoves it at him, and Bucky turns it over to look. “Do you think it’s okay that I drawed it?”

“Drew.”

“Drew.” She’s biting her lower lip, obviously nervous.

“This is Mr. Steve.”

“I heard you tell him to come over. I didn’t want him to not have any presents.”

“Oh, pumpkin. You’re the sweetest little girl in the whole wide world. He’s going to love it.”

“I know it’s extra so we don’t have anything to put it in.” She frowns as she looks down at the bedspread.

“You know what we could do? We could take one of our pictures down and use that frame, and then buy a new one after Christmas.”

“We can do that?”

“Absolutely. You go find a picture with a frame this size to take down, and we’ll get this framed and wrapped.” She starts looking at the pictures around the house and Bucky takes the picture of her grandparents and puts it with her backpack. He grabs her non-Santa presents and then carries them and the rest of her pictures downstairs to set them under the tree. With the snow he hasn’t gone out, which means he hasn’t gotten anything for Steve. Not that he has any idea what to get him.

He takes his phone out of his sweats pocket and takes a picture of the tree, sending it to Nat. She sends back a thumbs up emoji. He thinks about it for a few minutes then sends her a text.

_What do you get for the guy you just started dating?_

_He’s Santa, right? Cookies & milk._

_Very funny._

_Nice but generic. Booze. Gift card. Dick pic._

_You’re my worst best friend._

_Maybe so, but do you think Clint would be any help?_

_Fine. Pick me up one of each?_

_I’ll grab the booze and the gift card, but you’re on your own for the dick pic._

Bucky doesn’t even contemplate it, because, even with a passcode to get into it, he has no desire for Kat to somehow get into his phone and stumble across anything she absolutely shouldn’t. Ever.

“I found a picture, Daddy!”

Bucky follows the sound of her voice. She’s standing in front of the wall, pointing to a picture of himself and Evelyn in their camos. They’re both dirty, and Bucky’s bleeding a little bit on his forehead, but they’re grinning at each other like loons. “Yeah.” He swallows against a well of sadness. “That’s a good one.”

He takes it off the wall then heads upstairs, Kat at his heels. Bucky takes the picture out and sets it on his dresser then seals up the frame after Kat’s got the picture settled. She wraps it up then takes it downstairs to put under the tree.

Bucky makes breakfast, and after they’ve eaten, they go out to play in the snow for a while. Baths and snuggles on the couch follow. She falls asleep during _White Christmas_ , and Bucky lets her nap since he knows she’ll be up late tonight. He leaves her there on the couch and goes into the kitchen, working on getting together the snacks he’d bought for the night. Natasha and Clint are due about four, but he’s not sure when – or if, to be honest – Steve will show up.

He hums along with the songs from the movie as he chops vegetables and makes dip, starts the mulled cider in the crock pot, as well as taking out the makings of hot cocoa. He waits until almost four to wake Kat, telling her to go change into her Christmas outfit. There’s a fancy dress hanging in the closet for her to wear tomorrow, but for tonight, she’s got an ugly Christmas sweater that she and Bucky made. He needs to put his on his own, but before he does, he slides the lasagna in the oven.

He goes upstairs to change, knowing Kat won’t answer the door, and Natasha and Clint have a key. It doesn’t take him long to throw the sweater on over his t-shirt, and when he stops by Kat’s room, she’s pulling hers over her head. Over her Christmas dress. “You look great, pumpkin.”

She looks at Bucky and starts giggling. His shirt is covered with glued on sequins and wooden unicorns and fat Santas, all courtesy of Kat herself. “You look like a princess, Daddy!”

Her sweater has shiny silver garland along the hem, collar, and sleeves as well as a hand-drawn picture of Santa Claus and a bunch of elves that Bucky had laminated and they pinned on and a bunch of ornaments. “And you look like a Christmas tree with a very very pretty tree skirt.”

“Tree dress!”

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry. What do you say we go downstairs and wait for Auntie Nat and Uncle Clint? You can help me put some cookies on the tray.”

“We have to save some for Santa. Which kind do you think he likes best?”

“Well, Mr. Steve knows Santa, so maybe we can ask him. He might know.”

“I like Mr. Steve, Daddy. Do you think he likes us lots and lots?”

“I do.” He takes her hand and they head downstairs.

“Is he your boyfriend?”

“Well, we’re still getting to know each other, but, yeah. I think he’s my boyfriend.”

“Did you have a boyfriend before?”

“A long time ago when I was in high school.”

“High school? You have to be lots older than me for that. Are you super-old, Daddy?”

“Not quite super-old.”

They get to the bottom of the stairs just as Clint and Natasha are letting themselves in. Clint sniffs the air. “Oh, man. Smells good in here. What could it be?” He keeps sniffing until he gets over to Kat then squats down. “That’s it, smells like delicious little girl that a giant could eat all up!”

Kat squeals and runs away, Clint lumbering along after her. Natasha rolls her eyes. “I swear, he’s a child.”

“He’s your roommate. You only have yourself to blame.” Bucky takes her coat and hangs it up.

“You introduced us, so I can blame you as much as I want. But he does pay his half of the rent on time.”

“Plus you think he’s cute. You want to be Auntie Nat and Uncle Clint for real. Admit it.”

“I admit no such thing.” She crosses her arms over her chest, but then smiles. “So, you want to help me haul in the presents?”

“I thought we agreed on not enough presents to require the word ‘haul’."

“C’mon, Richard Kimble.” She leads the way outside, even though she just took off her coat. Bucky slips on his tennis shoes then follows her.

“He wasn’t the one-armed man, you know. He was the one looking for him. Because he killed Kimble’s wife.” Bucky gives her an unimpressed look. “So thanks for comparing me to a murderer, I guess.”

“I didn’t compare you to the murderer. You just assumed.”

“Uh-huh. And are suggesting that the reference didn’t have anything to do with the fact that I don’t have two functioning arms? Because, given the plot, I’m really having a hard time figuring out why else you’d call me that.”

“You and your logic always spoil my fun.” 

“Yeah. Logic’s really a bitch, isn’t it?” She sticks her tongue out at him then presses on her key fob to open the trunk. It swings open just as Steve pulls into the driveway in his truck. Bucky waves as Steve stops then opens the door. “Hey.”

Steve smiles and waves as well then leans over to the passenger seat before climbing out and swinging a backpack over his shoulder. He’s wearing a Santa hat on his head that manages to look very different when it’s not paired with the rest of the suit. “Hi.” He walks up and waves at Natasha. “Hi.”

“You look a lot different when I’m not sitting on your lap.”

Steve blushes. “Um. Thanks?”

She holds out her hand. “Natasha.”

“Steve.” He shakes her hand, and Bucky’s glad to see it’s a firm shake and not the weak kind of handshake people often seem to think women deserve. “And I’d appreciate it if you keep my alter-ego on the down-low.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. You want to give us a hand?” She doesn’t wait for Steve to answer, just grabs a bag out of the trunk and passes it over to him. Steve takes it and waits while she hands Bucky another bag, grabs one herself, and shuts the trunk.

“Nat, this is too much.”

“It’s from Clint and me and Kat.”

“I’ve told you – “

“Bucky. Let us spoil you guys, okay? You both deserve it, and you don’t let us do it enough. Besides, I bet Santa agrees with me.” She gives Steve a sly glance. “Don’t you think he’d agree?”

“Santa does tend to be pro-presents.”

“You’re supposed to be on my side,” Bucky informs him, but Steve just shrugs.

“I have no desire to piss off Santa. The guy is really judgmental.”

“You’re my boyfriend. You’re supposed to be on my side.” Steve grins suddenly, face flushed again and his smile beaming. “What?"

“I’m your boyfriend?”

“I mean, yeah? Is that a problem?”

“No.” He bites his lower lip then leans in and gives Bucky a quick kiss on the cheek. “The opposite of a problem.”

Natasha groans and moves past them into the house. “This is going to be torture.”

By the time they get back inside, Kat and Clint have eaten a bunch of cookies off the tray. They both look slightly guilty, but Bucky doesn’t believe it for an instant. He shakes his head and goes into the kitchen, bringing out the vegetables as well as a pre-made tray of crackers, cheese, and meat. Coming in from the outside, he can smell the spicy scent of the cider, and he takes a deep breath.

“Smells good.” Steve’s still got his backpack on his shoulder. “Can I talk to you in the kitchen for a minute? Grab some?”

“Um. Sure.” Bucky’s brow furrows, but he follows Steve. He pulls down a couple mugs at a time then dishes up the cider, unsure if he wants to look at Steve right now, his nerves humming.

“So I brought something for Kat. I mean, obviously. From me. But also from Santa.”

“Steve,” Bucky says with a heavy sigh.

“It’s nothing big. But I’d really like her to get it. If you don’t want that though, it’s fine. That’s why I wanted to talk to you first. Ask.”

Bucky bites his lower lip, focusing on ladling cider into the mugs. “Santa’s already got things.”

“I promise, it’s different. But like I said, it’s up to you.”

Bucky blows on his cider then takes a sip, silently wishing it was wine. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” Steve leans in and kisses Bucky’s temple.

“I reserve the right to change my mind though.”

“Okay.” Steve grabs three of the mugs then heads back to the living room, passing them out to Clint and Natasha. Bucky preps a hot cocoa for Kat then brings that out before grabbing his own cider and settling on the couch beside her. Clint’s telling Steve an embarrassing Bucky story from when they were in the service together, and Bucky groans.

“You know, I want him to like me, Clint, not think I’m an idiot.”

“’s not a nice word, Daddy.”

“You’re right. Sorry.” He wraps his arm around her and pulls her close. “But I’d like Uncle Clint to tell a nice story about me.”

“I think Mr. Steve will like you anyways.” She smiles up at Bucky. “Because you’re the bestest Daddy in the whole wide world ever.”

“And you’re the best kid ever.” He kisses the top of her head. “You want to help me set the table for dinner?”

“Okey dokey.” She slips off the couch and heads into the kitchen.

Bucky follows her, but not before giving Clint and Natasha a warning look. They both blink at Bucky, pictures of innocence. He narrows his eyes, but neither of them react. This was a very, very bad idea. He tries to keep an ear out as he works the lasagna out of the oven and slips the garlic bread in after turning the oven to broil. He hears laughter, but not actual words, and he’s almost afraid to know what they’re telling Steve. Clint and Natasha know where all Bucky’s bodies are buried and he knows neither of them are above pulling the comical ones out. Clint knew him before Natasha, since she hadn’t come into his life until Evelyn had, but she still had enough dirt to make Bucky nervous.

He’s relieved when he can call them in for dinner. Clint automatically comes over to the stove and grabs the lasagna, transporting it to the table, since Bucky feels uncomfortable carrying it that far with one hand. Natasha grabs the salad and, after putting it in the basket, Bucky brings the bread over. Bucky serves Kat first, then they all take turns, both Clint and Steve piling their plates high.

It’s Bucky’s mom’s recipe, so he expects the appreciative noises, but he doesn’t expect the way Steve looks at him as he hums happily at the taste. It’s warm and hot at the same time, and Bucky ducks his face to hide his blush. Natasha asks Steve questions, prying his story out of him. He’s less open that he was over the phone calls he and Bucky shared, but he’s good at storytelling, and he makes all of them laugh. Including Kat, who laughs hard enough that milk comes out her nose.

“I’m glad that was you and not me,” Clint tells her, and that forestalls any crying that might take over. “I probably would have shot it all across the table and gotten your dad in the face.”

Sniffles and the potential of tears are overtaken by laughter as Clint mimes liquid coming out of his nose, arching toward Bucky. Bucky pretends it hits him. “Ewwww.”

“Uncle Clint, you’re gross!”

“Hey, you’re the one squirting milk out your nose, not me.” He sticks his tongue out and Kat does the same.

“Clint.” Natasha smacks him on the arm. “Do not make Bucky lecture you on sticking your tongue out again. None of us deserved to be tortured like that. Well, except you.”

Clint ducks his head and focuses on his food, but he looks up at Kat and waggles his eyebrows to get her giggling again.

“Sorry, Steve. I didn’t tell you that there would be two children here tonight,” Bucky kicks Clint under the table and gets an exaggerated pout in return. “I’d forgotten that Kat makes Clint revert to his five-year-old self.”

“I like that you imply he’s never not his five-year-old self,” Natasha says.

“So, um. Are you guys together?”

Natasha looks at Steve. “Oh. Sorry. No. Clint and Bucky went to boot camp together and have been friends ever since. I met them both through Ev. Because apparently she wanted to torture me despite being my best friend. Right now Clint and I are roommates.”

“For now,” Bucky says under his breath, but he still gets a glare from Natasha.

“What about you? Roommates?”

“No. I mean, I spend a lot of time with my best friend, Sam, but I live alone.”

“How’d you two meet?”

“Jogging. He was doing this leisurely run, not even jogging really, and I kept lapping him and taunting him. Mostly because he was cute and my wooing capabilities are consistent with pulling pigtails. Afterwards, he told me I owed him a cup of coffee, and so we hung out. Got to know each other. Realized another reason my flirting failed was because he’s not interested in guys. But I didn’t hold it against him and we got to be friends. I sometimes spend Christmas with his family, but this year they’re meeting up in Louisiana, and I couldn’t take the time away from work. So here I am.”

After that they branch out into more neutral territory, talking until Kat’s practically vibrating in her seat. Bucky glances over at her. “You okay there, pumpkin?”

“Is it time for presents? We’ve had dinner. Is it present time?”

“Let’s clean up the kitchen first, and then we’ll do presents.”

She heaves a heavy, sad sigh, and her lower lip quivers. “Okay.”

“You know,” Steve leans in toward her. “If we all help, I bet we can get it done super-fast and get to the presents sooner.”

“You’ll help?”

“Absolutely. What’s the first step?”

Kat starts directing them all, telling them what to do. Natasha leans in to Bucky while Steve’s grabbing the plates from the table. “He’s good.”

“Yeah.”

“Good with her.”

“Yeah.” Bucky fights his smile. “Yeah. He is.”

“You’re smitten.”

“I’m the smittenest.”

“Okay, never say that again.” She bumps his shoulder with her own. “Now, c’mon. We need to help before your daughter has a nervous breakdown.”

**

It’s nearly eleven by the time Kat falls asleep, tipped over and head on Natasha’s lap. Clint takes her from Natasha and carries her up the stairs. Bucky follows, and he can hear Steve and Natasha picking up wrapping paper and ribbon, new toys and gifts. Bucky gets Kat into her pajamas and kisses her forehead as he tucks her in. Clint waits until they’re out in the hallway before draping an arm over Bucky’s shoulders.

“So, this guy.”

“Clint.”

“I like him. Nat likes him. Plus, you know, Santa Claus. Can’t really go wrong there. Though I suppose it’s long distance if he’s up at the North Pole most of the year.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m hilarious.”

“Believe what you have to, buddy.”

They head downstairs and everything’s been straightened up, and Steve is tucking the bottles of booze and the six pack of fancy beer that he got from the three of them in his backpack. He pulls out a small and medium sized box and sets them under the tree, then carefully puts the drawing from Kat inside. He stands up and hooks the backpack over his shoulder. “I should probably leave you guys to finish up and help Santa.”

“You don’t have to go,” Bucky tells him.

“Yeah, I do. You guys have a little bit of Christmas the way you always do. But thank you. For inviting me. I had a really nice time.” He reaches out and takes Bucky’s hand and squeezes it. “Gotta get Santa’s hat back to him before he takes off on his sleigh.”

“I’ll walk you out.” They put shoes and coats on, and Bucky holds Steve’s hand as they go out to his truck. Steve unlocks it and gets the engine and defroster running. Bucky shivers and steps closer to him. “Kat goes to her grandparents tomorrow. I usually stuff myself with leftovers and cry, if you’re interested in that.”

“Wow. You know how to show a guy a good time.” Steve smiles and sets his hands on Bucky’s hips. “You could come over to mine.”

“I could.” Bucky steps closer until they’re pressed up against each other. “You want me to bring the leftover lasagna?”

“It was really good lasagna.”

Bucky reaches up and rests his hand on the nape of Steve’s neck then pulls him down for a slow kiss. “Text me your address. I drop Kat off between nine and ten, so I’m free after that.”

“Okay.” Steve kisses him this time. “Come over whenever.”

“Night.” Bucky kisses him again, biting Steve’s lower lip before licking it. Steve laughs softly and his lips part. Bucky’s not sure who actually deepens the kiss, but when they finally pull apart, they’re both breathing heavy, leaving vapor trails in the cold air. “Night.”

“You already said that.”

“Night again then.”

“Night, Buck.”

Bucky stands there while Steve climbs into his truck, waving to him as he turns from the driveway onto the road. As soon as he’s out of sight, Bucky heads back into the house where Nat and Clint are sitting on the couch, clearly waiting for him. He sits in the chair diagonal from them and sighs. “What?”

“Steve and Bucky sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S – oof!” Clint winces as Natasha backhands him on the stomach.

“He has our approval,” Natasha says once she’s finished with Clint. He’d brought a do-it-yourself kit for making friendship bracelets for Kat, and she’s immediately promised to make him one. He’d actually brought gifts for Natasha and Clint, each of them getting a bottle of wine and a box of fancy candy, which is no doubt why Clint likes him. He’d gotten Bucky a novel by an author he’d mentioned liking as well as a gift card to Olive Garden with a note saying he hoped their next date there went better than the last. It also came with a package of breadsticks which made Bucky crack up. “In fact, if you don’t keep dating him, I think Clint might ask him out.”

Clint nods. “I’m straight, but I might make an exception. He’s pretty dreamy.” He bats his eyelashes and Bucky throws a pillow at him. Clint catches it, because he’s that kind of jerk, tossing it right back at Bucky’s face.

“I’m seeing him tomorrow after I drop off Kat.” He nods to the tree where Santa gifts have been spread out. “He got her something from Santa.”

“Well, they are close, personal friends.” Nat grins. “He got you something from Santa too.”

“I think it’s condoms, but Nat says probably not.”

“Clint, you are the worst,” Bucky groans. “Why do we put up with you?”

“Like Nat says. I pay my share of the rent.”

“Fine, why do _I_ put up with you?”

"We still haven't figured that out."

**

Nat and Clint stay the night and they all wake up to Kat's yelling, telling them all that Santa came and left presents and filled their stockings. Bucky's not sure who groans louder - himself or Clint. Bucky meets the whirlwind of Kat as she runs up the stairs, shouting at Nat and Clint and Bucky to wake up and Merry Christmas and hurry.

Bucky turns her around and guides her to the kitchen where he turns on the coffee pot. He yawns as he goes to the cupboard, grabs a glass, and pours a chocolate milk for Kat. "Santa pancakes, waffles, or French toast today, ma'am?"

"All three," Clint answers, moving past Bucky to the coffee pot. He grabs a mug and moves the pot so the coffee will go straight into his cup. "And bacon."

"I don't remember asking you."

"Can we have all three, Daddy?"

"No, sorry. You can pick one."

She pouts, but then seems to remember it's Christmas and stops, but then obviously remembers Santa's already been there, so her lower lip slides out again.

Bucky raises an eyebrow. "He's already watching for next Christmas."

She sighs heavily. "French toast." When Bucky doesn't move she sighs again, the most put-upon of all children. "Please."

"But still bacon," Clint chimes in and Bucky needs new friends. 

"Fine. Leave some coffee for me, huh?"

Clint holds out the mug that he pulls from under the drip, handing it to Bucky. "My Christmas gift to you."

"I'm honored to receive this gift."

"Hey, I'm giving up the first cup of _coffee_."

"Because you're going to drink the rest of the pot?"

"You don't know my life," he mutters, moving the pot and putting another mug underneath to catch the drips of coffee. Natasha comes into the kitchen, and Clint sighs, shoulders sagging, as he hands over the newly-filled cup to her.

"I don't want any, Uncle Clint!" Kat's got a milk mustache and a big smile, and Bucky can't help but go over and kiss the top of her head. 

"Okay. French toast _and_ bacon coming right up."

Bucky cooks and they eat and, by the time they're done, Kat's practically tipping her chair back so she can look longingly at her stocking and her presents. Bucky's almost tempted to make her wait for the dishes to be done, but other than making everyone stick their plates and silverware in the dishwasher, he lets them go into the living room.

She demolishes her stocking, candy and lip balm and doll clothes to go with the doll that's wrapped up under the tree. There are hot cocoa packets as well as two tickets to Disney on Ice that Nat must have slipped in when Bucky wasn't looking. He glares at her and she just shrugs. 

After Kat's done, the rest of them do their stockings, small gifts that are more silly than sentimental. Kat's staring at them wide-eyed as if she's trying to will them to go faster with her mind. Finally Natasha pulls out her mini bottle of vodka that's always in the toe of her stocking and Kat gives Bucky a desperate look. He nods and she races over to the tree, grabbing gifts and passing them all out until she can sit down in her own pile.

The first thing she opens is the doll the clothes fit, and Bucky can see the relief on her face, because she had been obviously confused and sad that she didn't have a doll to fit them. Bucky opens his couple of gifts - a nice set of leather gloves from Natasha, which he appreciates, since he doesn't always feel cold in his left hand. Clint's Santa present to him is a bunch of movie passes and coupons for free Clint and/or Natasha babysitting. Bucky can't remember the last time he saw a movie that wasn't animated and filled with insidiously catchy songs. 

Nat opens Bucky's Santa gift card, then opens her gift from Clint. Inside is a simple gold chain necklace. She looks at him, and Bucky doesn't remember the last time she's seemed shocked.Clint shrugs and smiles before digging into his gifts. There's another gift card from Bucky and a watch from Natasha.

Bucky's fairly certain they're definitely no longer just roommates after today.

Kat's torn through most of her presents - a game and a copy of Frozen 2 and a copy of a CD set of Disney's greatest hits. She has his old CD player in her room, so hopefully they can shut the door so Bucky won't be singing the Mickey Mouse Club theme song without realizing it.

He fiddles with the paper to Steve's gift then finally opens it. There's a gorgeous, soft cashmere scarf that's a swirl of colors - brown, copper, gold, and blue - that are all the hues Bucky associates with Steve. He ducks his head, grinning like an idiot, and winds it around his neck.

"Santa's got good taste," Natasha whispers softly. She's already wearing her necklace, and Bucky looks at it pointedly. 

"He sure does."

Kat picks up her last gift, coincidentally the one from Steve, and shakes it. 

It barks.

Kat's eyes go wide, and Bucky's already plotting Steve's death when she tears it open. Nothing pops out, but Kat pulls out a stuffed white and tan dog. She squeezes it in a tight hug and it barks again. She giggles and starts squeezing it again and again until it's barking up a storm. Bucky switches from death to just maiming Steve. 

"Hey, sport." Natasha reaches in the box and holds up a note. "There's something else in here. Ooh. Says it's from Santa."

"Daddy read it?"

Bucky takes the note from Nat.

" _Dear Katrina - I'm sure you remember that I said a puppy couldn't ride in the sleigh, so I'm afraid you're going to have to decide with your dad if you're old enough and ready enough to take care of a dog. In the meantime, I hope this puppy makes you happy. He loves you just as much as a real dog does. Be good for your daddy, Merry Christmas, and keep up the good work to stay on the nice list. Love Santa._."

"I love him! Do you think Santa knows I love him? Can I take him with me to Grandma and Grandpa's? Please, Daddy?"

It only takes him a second to decide that subjecting Charles and Felicia to a day and night of barking is a wonderful idea. "Absolutely. Speaking of which, we need to get you ready and dressed to go over there."

"Can the puppy sit in the bathroom with me? And my dolly?"

"As long as you're careful not to get them wet."

"I won't. I promise!" She grabs her doll by the hand and hurries up the stairs to the bathroom. Bucky sighs and starts to gather the wrapping paper to put in the box Steve's gift came in. He knows Nat and Clint are both giving him knowing looks, but he ignores them as long as he can before breaking down.

"What?"

"Just, you know, those are pretty thoughtful gifts from a guy who's known the two of you for all of...what? A month?"

"He knew what she wanted. She literally told him."

Natasha reaches out and touches Bucky's scarf. "Uh-huh. And what did you tell him?"

"Mostly that I hate my friends." He shakes his head. "Thanks for making Christmas a good time. I'm glad you guys are here."

"Ew. No being sentimental. Yuck." Clint's smiling as he says it, so Bucky does what he does best and ignores him. "For your last gift though, you stay in here and clean up and Nat and I will go finish the dishes."

"Don't make out in my kitchen."

He's delighted when Clint blushes. He ignores the mess still on the floor and goes upstairs for Kat's bath ritual. He wishes he could keep Kat here all day long, but he knows that Evelyn's parents like having her there on Christmas. Since Bucky gets Christmas Eve and Christmas morning with her, it's easier not to mind, and in the aftermath of Evelyn's death it had seemed easier to agree to their wishes, especially back then when he wasn't sure how he was going to handle a kid the rest of the year, not just Christmas.

Natasha comes upstairs just after Kat puts her dress on and offers to braid her hair. They kick Bucky out so he can see how beautiful she is after, and so he goes downstairs to the kitchen where Clint's brewing another pot of coffee.

Clint looks up from the dregs of the previous pot that he's drinking. "He's nice. I like him. You have my approval."

"Gee, thanks, Dad." Bucky laughs it off, but having both Nat and Clint approving of Steve makes Bucky feel immeasurably better. "So, what are you two going to get up to once you get home?"

"I have no idea what you mean." He tries to be serious, but the grin he's fighting gives him away. "I don't know. Talk, I guess. What are _you_ going to do?"

"Go see Steve." He knows he's blushing, but Clint's actually nice enough not to comment on it. In fact, he doesn't speak for a few minutes then he looks at Bucky, face actually serious.

"Nat told me that Ev would like him."

Something twists in Bucky's chest at the comment and tears spring to his eyes. Clint looks panicked, but Bucky just shakes his head. Sniffing, he rubs his eyes quickly. "Yeah. I think she would too."

**

The Kat drop-off goes smoothly, and Felicia's thank you to Bucky for bringing her over actually sounds somewhat sincere. He turns to go once Kat's rushed inside, but Felicia reaches out and touches his arm for just a moment. Bucky stops, surprised, and turns back around. She holds a small box out to him, all the wrapping paper corners sharp and square, precise.

"What's this?"

"A gift. It's kind of generic. I don't really know what you like."

His brow furrows in confusion, and then he nods and smiles just a little. "Thank you."

"And, well, maybe next time Katrina comes for the weekend, you could stay for dinner." It's likely the closest Bucky will ever get to any kind of apology, and he takes it for the olive branch it is.

"Thank you."

She nods sharply, obviously uncomfortable. "Well. Merry Christmas."

"Thank you, Felicia. Same to you."

The drive to Steve's is quiet, since Bucky rarely is allowed that in the car. He pulls up in front of three-story house that's been converted into apartments and parks, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck before going out into the cold.

Steve opens the door at his knock, and Bucky has to take a deep, fortifying breath, because Steve's hair is still wet from the shower, dripping on the towel draped around his neck, his t-shirt apparently pulled on hastily since it's clinging to his still damp skin. "Hey. Sorry. Woke up late."

"It's fine." Bucky comes inside and looks around the small apartment. “This is where you live.”

“Yep. I hope you weren’t expecting much, considering what I do with my evenings this time of year.”

“No. It's nice. I mean, I expected elves, maybe. Certainly more candy canes.” He rises up on his toes and looks toward the kitchen. “Gingerbread. Chestnuts roasting.”

“You know, if I wanted to hang around with an asshole, I wouldn’t have broken up with my last boyfriend.” Steve leans against the back of the couch and crosses his arms over his chest. “So I’ll be over here when you’re done.”

“Okay, okay.” Bucky held his arm up in surrender, though he's suddenly wondering about Steve's previous relationships.. “I’ll stop. I wouldn’t want to end up on the naughty list, after all.”

Steve reaches out and snags Bucky’s wrist, pulling him closer. He spreads his legs so Bucky can slip between them. “You’re going to be lucky if you even rate coal in your stocking, you know.”

“Maybe if I’m really bad, Santa’ll take off that big wide belt and give me a - “ He cuts off when Steve kisses him, his parted lips giving Steve free rein to slide his tongue into Bucky’s mouth. Bucky moans into the kiss and tries to press closer, and Steve wraps his legs around him, heels meeting between Bucky’s legs.

Steve slides his hand around the back of Bucky’s neck and holds him in the kiss, not that Bucky has any intention of moving. He shifts closer, his hand settling on Steve's hip. When Steve pulls back, his eyes are dark, pupils enlarged. "Merry Christmas." He nuzzles Bucky's mouth with his own then shifts back just a little. "You gonna tell Santa what you want?"

Bucky bites his lip, swallows hard. "Take me to the bedroom and I'll show you."

**

Epilogue:

"Will you please get the door," Bucky calls from the kitchen.

"They have a key." 

"Steve!"

"Okay, okay, Mr. Grinch." Bucky stirs the taco meat then goes out into the living room. He'd hoped Nat and Clint would be the first to arrive, but Steve's standing at the door, offering to take Felicia's coat. She looks Steve over as if she can't decide what to think of him. "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Bellows. Nice to meet you. I'm Steve. A friend of Bucky's."

Felicia's mouth makes a small moue, but she lets out a slow breath and manages a smile. "You're the boyfriend."

"Yes, ma'am. Are you sure I can't take your coat?" 

"We can't stay long. The ballet starts in a couple of hours." 

"Of course. Kat is excited. She's been twirling around since you told her about going." He laughs. "She informed Santa that she wanted a tutu for Christmas."

"I wasn't aware she was that excited." Felicia actually smiles at Steve. "I hope she enjoys it."

"I'm sure she will. We've been reading the story for her, because once she found out it was a book too, well. That was the end of all other bedtime stories."

"I am sorry we're interrupting your Christmas ritual," Felicia says to Bucky. Things have improved over the year, though there's still a lot between them. They're never going to be completely comfortable with Bucky, but fortunately Kat isn't caught in the crossfire. And Felicia doesn't seem too bothered to meet Steve. Charles hasn't said anything, but Bucky didn't really expect him to. 

He'd told them he started dating before Kat could, and informed them he was dating a man. Bucky thinks Felicia's actually slightly relieved, that she might feel like Bucky isn't trying to replace her daughter in his life. "It's no problem. Like Steve said, Kat's excited, and we'll celebrate tomorrow."

"We'll bring her back around ten, if that's all right?"

"That's fine. Just call if she gets worn out tonight and sleeps late." Bucky slips his arm around Steve's waist. "I hope you have a wonderful time. Kat! Are you coming down?"

"Almost!" A few seconds later, she appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in the only dress she deemed perfect for the ballet. It's got a tulle underskirt that, according to her, is almost like a tutu, and it's a deep, royal blue with a green and blue plaid ribbon around the waist to match the one in her hair. Steve had helped her pull it into a high and tight bun, and Bucky's heart swells because she looks beautiful. Too grown up.

"Oh, Katrina! You look lovely!" Felicia meets Kat at the bottom of the stairs and kneels down to hug her. "I wish your mother could see you." She seems to realize what she's said because she looks quickly over at Steve and Bucky. 

Bucky nods. "I do too. I think Ev would be so proud of her amazing little girl."

"She's looking down on me though," Kat says seriously. "She's my guardian angel."

"Yes," Felcia sniffs and stands up, turning away from everyone for a moment. Kat comes over to Bucky and hugs him.

"Night, Daddy. Say hi to Santa if you see him!"

"I will."

She turns to Steve and curtseys. "Goodnight, Mr. Steve."

He bows. "Goodnight, Miss Katrina. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay! I love you! Bye bye!" She waves to both of them then skips over to her grandfather. She's already got her fancy shoes on, polished a shiny black with Steve's help. Bucky leans against Steve as the three of them leave, exhaling deeply when the door shuts behind them.

"This is going to be weird," Bucky says, turning his face up to look at Steve. He's looking down at Bucky with the warmest expression. "What?"

"She's an amazing kid." He brushes his nose against Bucky's. "And I love."

"I've been told not to trust declarations of love made at Christmas time."

"That's only if it's the first time."

"Oh. Well. Then I guess it's safe to say I love you too."

"How long until Clint and Nat get here?"

"Not sure. Why?"

Steve nods to the kitchen doorway and the sprig of mistletoe there. "I could put the beard on if daddy wants to kiss Santa Claus." 

"You're making it creepy again, Steve." Bucky laughs and tugs him toward the door. "But I'll still let you kiss me."

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a short, silly fic based on the fact that I always thought daddy laughing at the sight of Mommy kissing Santa Claus was a little weird, and it turned into a monster.


End file.
